Princes Of Mirkwood
by Emerald Queen
Summary: Elrond and his household are visiting Mirkwood. Dark shadows lurk under the froest canopy and Legolas, his brothers, and Elronds twins can't stay out of danger. Tragedy, blood and angst and a snippit of romance. BEING REVAMPED!
1. Promises From Sons

PRINCES OF MIRKWOOD  
  
Chapter 1 – Promises From Sons  
  
King Thranduil of the forest realm of Mirkwood sighed deeply, and not for the first time. This was not turning out to be a good day for the ancient king. Massaging his temples with long, pale fingers he spoke quietly to his beloved wife, who was sitting by his side in a silky, flowing dress covered with swirls of embroidery.  
  
"Remind me again why I am doing this," he muttered, his voice tense. The tips of his fingers continued to make small circles over his temples.  
  
His wife, in the style of her husband, sighed. She gently rested a dainty hand on his shoulder, underneath the waves of polished golden hair, and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.  
  
"You are doing this, as you put it, because we want a link with Imladris and Lord Elrond. You are doing this because we need more allies, quite desperately, as it happens. You are doing this because you want your sons to see how other highborn Elven children behave. That more than anything, I think," she wrapped her arms around her beloved husbands shoulders.  
  
"I know, Imlammthien, I know. You don't need to tell me again," Thranduil pushed his heavy chair back and stood up, beginning to pace restlessly. The long, dark green robes he wore flowed around him regally, trailing slightly along the stone floor. Imlammthien let her hands drop to her knees and watched him for a moment.  
  
"So why did you ask?"  
  
"I suppose it was because I still can not quite get over my two youngest sons behaving like common children, running hither and thither causing as much trouble as they like, without even a 'by your leave'," the pacing continued, as it often did when the king was worried. The sound of footsteps on stone settled in to a regular beat.  
  
"Thellind gets in to just as much mischief as either Nilwethion or Legolas."  
  
"Only because he is always dragged in to it by his miscreant brothers!"  
  
Queen Imlammthien smothered a giggle, covering her mouth with a small, white handkerchief. She turned away as Thranduil gave her a sidelong look and paused in his strides.  
  
"I see no joke in our children behaving like wild animals!" The strides had now continued, and Thranduil had his hands clasped firmly behind him back.  
  
The gentle queen let out a snort of laughter. She turned back to the great Elven lord, gazing at him in the way that only a wife can, her face lit up with a merry mirth. Her cheeks glowed a healthy, rosy colour in the flickering candlelight that lit up the large chamber.  
  
"Oh but some of it is quite funny, you must admit. Do you remember when they set up that bucket of water over our bedroom door, and one of your captains opened it, and got soaked through? Oh, he was chasing after the three of them for hours, red in the face, as they were trying to run and laugh at the same time! You cannot say you did not find that funny. I know full well you were trying very hard not to laugh when we did finally catch them," she began laughing in to her hand again, her delicate shoulders shaking as she did so. Black hair fell over them, hiding her face. A smile crept across King Thranduil's own face at the memory.  
  
"Yes, I must admit that was funny. However, they are princes, and princes of Mirkwood. There is a standard to be held. Why can they not try to be more like their brothers? At least they must be civil when Lord Elrond and his children get here. What would they think of us if they knew the truth? Any hope of allegiance with Imladris would be destroyed in an instant!" again, the king sighed and slumped back down in to his seat. He stared at the grey stone wall opposite blankly.  
  
The queen finally stopped laughing, becoming serious once more as her husband did.  
  
"I know how much this means to you. I'll go and have a word with them,"  
  
Queen Imlammthien rose from the ornately carved table and glided smoothly towards the door as only an Elf can, her dark blue dress and cloak flowing out behind her. Just as she rested a white hand on the doorknob and turned it, Thranduil called out to her.  
  
"Imlammthien?"  
  
"Yes my darling?"  
  
"Perhaps I should speak to them. I want a word with all of them anyway. Could you tell one of the servants to bring them in please?"  
  
Imlammthien nodded.  
  
"Shall I fetch Calensil also?"  
  
King Thranduil nodded sagely.  
  
"It would do her good to know what she may and may not do in such company as this. I fear her brothers are having too much bad influence on her,"  
  
The queen nodded and left, shutting the great wooden door silently behind her.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Lord Elrond of Imladris and about forty elves from his household were travelling through the deep, dark depths of the gigantic Mirkwood to see the royal family, apparently because both sides needed more allies. All around him, the ancient branches of the forest twisted together in an almost threatening manner. Every so often, a pair of unsavoury eyes flickered in the light of the torches.  
  
He sighed softly as he watched the dark trees pass by like an army of shadows from where he was seated on his proud white horse, listening to the rustling of the dark leaves and the occasional twitter of a black squirrel. This was sure to be a disaster. The lord could feel it in his bones somehow, like a promotion.  
  
"What is it father?" asked Elladan, one of his identical, dark haired sons. Elrond frowned. He had not noticed the twins come up on either side of him. That should really be a good thing, he thought, because it mean they were improving the vital skills needed to survive in this world. It was also a bad thing however, because it meant that one could never be sure if they were behind you, planning to play their next trick and then run away laughing.  
  
"I have been thinking," he began slowly. The twins blanched meaningfully, as if this was a bad thing. Again, Elrond glowered at them.  
  
"I have been thinking," he repeated, slightly louder, and in a sterner tone of voice, "That it may not have been a good idea to bring you two. I should have sent you to stay with your grandmother in Lothlorien,"  
  
The twins gasped, and looked shocked. Elladan drew back his hood and gave Elrond a very hurt look, tucking a stray strand of his long, black hair behind his pointed ear.  
  
"You did not really mean that did you Adar?"  
  
"Actually, I did. You are always causing trouble, after all. You could ruin everything with your tricks and pranks and practical jokes,"  
  
The Lord of Imladris noticed the look of mirth that passed between his two sons, although they seemed to think that he had missed it. He wondered vaguely what made offspring think that their parents were blind, or incredibly blind or stupid.  
  
"Naneth!" called Elrohir suddenly, "Naneth, Adar wants to send us to Lothlorien with Arwen!"  
  
A beautiful Elven woman on a white palfrey, almost exactly the same as the one Elrond was riding, cantered up. A white cloak covered her head and face. From under the hood came a peaceful tutting sound.  
  
"You are a terrible liar, Elrohir. I am quite sure your ada would never say that,"  
  
"He did Naneth, I am not lying!" Elrohir flushed red with indignation at the unfair accusation. His jaw stuck out and he tossed his fair head in the manner of one wronged.  
  
"He is not, Naneth, honestly!" Elladan came in, as always, to the aid of his beloved twin.  
  
The double act did not impress either parent, as it had been used far too many times, and nothing about the twins had ever changed. It was almost as if neither of them had ever grown up, but had only improved their skill with weapons. Weapons were the only thing that they ever took seriously.  
  
"Actually, I said that I wish I had sent them to Lothlorien with their little sister. At least there they would be out of harms way,"  
  
An identical cheeky grin passed across the faces of the twins. This time they did not even try to hide it as they had done previously. They had, after all, just proved themselves to be innocent.  
  
"I thought you knew us better than that Adar. We are harms way, after all," sniggered one of the twins with a cheeky grin. The flash of white teeth in the dark gloom shone brightly like a star in the sky, only stars do not play pranks.  
  
"Oh Ada, do not send us back, please. Think about it. This trip could be a great benefit to us. We could . . . we might . . . the royal children may rub off on us, and we may become well behaved, stuck up, arrogant creatures like them,"  
  
Their father drew in his breath sharply and his nostrils flared and lost all their colour.  
  
"Do not dare refer to the princes and princess of Mirkwood like that again, do you understand me? If you do I will send you strait back home and will send a message not to allow you out of your rooms until your mother and I return. SEPARATE rooms," he hissed at them.  
  
The two young elves hung their heads, able to tell when they had pushed their luck too far, and terrified of being separated. They never separated by choice, after all.  
  
"Sorry Ada," muttered Elladan  
  
"Sorry Ada," muttered Elrohir, at the same time  
  
"I want a promise from you both not to say anything foolish or insulting like that again whilst we are in Mirkwood. You will promise not to play any jokes or tricks on anybody. Not even from Imladris. You will promise to be under your best behaviour. Promise me. Promise your mother," growled Elrond. He nodded grimly as the twins repeated 'we promise Ada' quietly. He watched them drop back, and turned to his wife.  
  
"By Elbereth, they had better keep those promises,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Five of the royal children of Mirkwood were sat around a large oak table silently, watching their parents in something that could be called interest. Their parents were staring back at them solemnly. If the queen was solemn, the inhabitants of Mirkwood knew there was something very important either happening, or about to happen. The three youngest princes were uneasily exchanging glances and fiddling with the cuffs of their sleeves, shifting in their seats uncomfortably.  
  
"Where are Oroweth and Astaler?" asked Imlammthien after a few moments of silence.  
  
"They have not long returned from the skirmish with the orcs, Nana," replied the fourth prince, a smooth faced Elf with long, brown hair pulled back behind his ears to keep it from aggravating him, twisted in to a few small plaits. "They will not be long."  
  
"They should be here by now, surely,"  
  
The prince shrugged in an elegant way, and the green tunic he was wearing failed to crumple. The youngest prince glared momentarily, but then his eyes met with those of his father and he looked away.  
  
"They will be here any moment. It will not take long, Naneth."  
  
"Then we shall wait for them,"  
  
The silence continued again, unbroken. At last the youngest prince leaned over to his closest brother. On his knee sat his sister, seemingly not paying any attention, but fiddling with a small piece of lace in her hands. She was unravelling, finding amusement in the destruction of the pretty object, as young children do.  
  
"Nilwethion," he whispered nervously, "Do you think they know?"  
  
"Do not be a fool Legolas, they can't know. Shut up before they hear you," the youth did not seem entirely convinced by his own words, however, and bit his fear. Both of them seemed to have the sinking feeling that all wayward children have when in trouble.  
  
"But . . ."  
  
"Hush!"  
  
Prince Legolas leaned back in to his seat, avoiding meeting the stern eyes of his father. He did not notice his sister playing idly with his hair, having lost interest in the lace, until she tugged on a newly created knot. He let out a small 'ow' and pulled his hair away from her dainty fingers, sticky with something she had been eating, creating an even larger knot. The little princess giggled.  
  
As the king opened his mouth to say something reprimanding, the door burst open revealing two travel worn princes, their clothes bloodstained but, at least, not ripped as they would have been had Legolas or Nilwethion been wearing them. The royal couple blanched openly.  
  
"Oroweth, Astaler, must you make an entrance? You are as bad as your younger brothers sometimes,"  
  
The two princes choose not to hear the remark, or at least not to dignify it with an answer, and sat down in their seats around the large table.  
  
"Is this about the, um, thing, ada?" asked Nilwethion tentatively just as Thranduil was about to open his mouth to say something.  
  
"The guests from Imladris, yes. That is, I take it, what you were referring to?" the king fixed his son with a questioning look, as if he knew that some trick or other had been recently played. Legolas suspected that his parent could smell fear, but this suspicion had never been proved.  
  
"Err, yes, of course. What else could I possibly mean?" the prince's voice was a little shaky, but full of relief. His brothers, or at least two of them, also sighed with relief, and exchanged thankful glances. Thranduil's eyes narrowed.  
  
"What else DO you mean, Nilwethion? Legolas? Is there something you want to tell me?"  
  
"No father, really there isn't," Legolas spoke, his voice slightly higher than any of his brothers, but perhaps due to rising fear and not his more youthful age.  
  
The eyebrow rose, as paternal eyebrows so often do when they suspect something. In the case of Thranduil, this was most of the time, as his sons were so often guilty of something.  
  
"There will be trouble when I find out what you are not telling me, little Nilwethion. Now that we are all here, we may begin," He began to drone on about behaviour of princes, and how they must act as though they were well brought up and respectful. The three brothers looked at each other.  
  
"Close one," mouthed Legolas. The other two gave faint nods, their skin having paled subtly since they had entered the room. The flicker of torchlight highlighted the light of fear crossed with relief in Legolas' eyes. They turned their attention back to their father just in time to hear him say, "Promise me, otherwise there will be trouble,"  
  
The four children who had been paying attention said loudly, "We promise Ada, we promise Naneth,"  
  
"We promise Ada, we promise Naneth," repeated the three others, quickly, wondering what it was they were promising to.  
  
"Good, good. Now, Legolas, what is it you are promising to?"  
  
Legolas felt himself burning up, pinned down. Caught like a fish in a net. He did not have a clue what the promise was, having not heard any of the lecture, but he heard his sister whispering in low tones, "To be on your best behaviour when the guests arrive,"  
  
"Um, to be on our best behaviour, um, when the guests arrive?"  
  
The king glared, annoyed that he had not managed to catch his son red handed, but Legolas noticed his mother smiling at him with what he suspected was pride as well as love.  
  
"You are lucky to have your sister on your lap to tell you what you have promised to, little Greenleaf. Perhaps next time you had better try listening,"  
  
"Yes Adar," he muttered, apologetically  
  
"Thellind, Nilwethion, that goes to you too,"  
  
"Yes Ada,"  
  
"Yes Ada,"  
  
"Now off you go. The guests should be arriving sometime this evening. Oroweth, Astaler, please get changed quickly; we do not want them to think that we are about to be overrun with a full scale war on our doorstep. Understand?"  
  
The princes nodded, grateful to be let free and ran for the door, the small Calensil insisting to be carried by Nilwethion.  
  
"One more thing," called Imlammthien. Her children paused and turned around, "Please do not go running off in the forest, and do not under any circumstances go playing tricks on the lords and ladies from Imladris, and do not run everywhere like you usually do. Please act like the fully grown and mature adults that you are...except you, Calensil, but I still expect you to be on your best behaviour anyway," she dismissed her children with a smile, as one who knows that their word will be listened to and respected.  
  
She was greeted by a chorus of 'yes Naneth' and her children all disappeared through the door. The couple sat back in their seats.  
  
"Why do I get the feeling at least one of them is going to break their promise?" sighed Thranduil.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A door slammed somewhere in the stone halls of the king of Mirkwood. On the other side, three princes and a princess checked to make sure nobody was listening, and then burst in to hysterics.  
  
"Well behaved?" laughed Nilwethion, "I will bet you anything they will all be a bunch of stuck up snobs!"  
  
"Elrond and his sons will be the worst. Do you suppose those two half blood twins will truly be as snobbish as Lord Elrond made them seem in those letters he sent to Adar?" Thellind said thoughtfully  
  
"Of course, brother. What reason would he have to lie about them, after all? Do you seriously mean to tell me that you think they will be at all like us?"  
  
Thellind wrinkled his nose at the very thought of the idea. "Like us? Of course not. They are half bloods, and Noldorian, if I am not very much mistaken. How could they be at all like us? Legolas, you are keeping very quiet for once. What do you think?"  
  
The young prince bowed gracefully but kept whatever thoughts he may have had inside his own, blonde head. He sat down on to the bed and picked up his giggling sister, tickling her mercilessly.  
  
"I cannot believe we have to behave like Oroweth and Astaler and Nuryävié for three whole months! We must plan something very big for the second the Imladris guests leave."  
  
"Really, really big!" giggled Calensil, speaking for the first time in her high pitched little voice, as soon as Legolas stopped tickling her to let her catch her breath "Big, big, big, big, big!"  
  
"Big, big, big indeed," agreed Legolas, almost solemnly, but his eye twinkled  
  
"May I be part of it this time, please?" she begged, "Oh please Legolas, can I? Please, please, please Legolas, please! Nilwethion? Thellind? Pretty please?" she had her brothers wrapped around her little finger. Using her sweet, doe eyed look on them sealed it instantly. She would be part of the plot.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 


	2. New Arrivals And Old Friends

Chapter 2 – New Arrivals And Old Friends  
  
The undergrounds halls of the Mirkwood king were a flurry of last minute preparations. Everywhere, Elves were running around making sure everything was perfect for the elves of Imladris. The royal family was no acceptation, especially the king and queen who were in a flurry of panic and jostled hurry.  
  
Oroweth, Astaler, Nuryávië and little Calensil seemed to be perfect, as always, Calensil loving every square inch of the special treatment that she was being given. Thellind, Nilwethion and Legolas however, were quite the opposite. Somehow they didn't seem to be doing anything right; 'accidentally' tripping up and ripping new, perfect clothes, not being able to find the hairbrush, loosing everything they needed and generally making a mess of everything. This was nothing new, however, but it still made the stress that their poor parents were under increase dramatically.  
  
"How are we going to survive?" moaned Legolas, after eventually finding his hairbrush in the obvious place, on his dressing table by the mirror. He began to drag it through his golden hair, ripping out fine strands in the process. He glowered at the reflection in the mirror. Thellind shrugged, preoccupied by trying to find a shoe.  
  
"Maybe if we are lucky we won't," came the reply from Nilwethion, half submerged under the bed.  
  
"What are you doing?" Legolas took just enough time out from tugging the brush roughly through his hair to see his brother emerging, victorious, from under the bed, his hair looking as though he had been dragged through a bush backwards, kicking and screaming. Nilwethion held up an ancient wooden box, badly carved from oak wood which looked as though it would fall apart as soon as it was looked at. It had obviously been through a lot, and had not been made by a professional.  
  
"Found it!" he grinned, holding his prise with great care "Come here. Where are the others?"  
  
"I do not know. They have been ready for ages, unlike lucky old us . . . hey! I know that box!"  
  
Legolas and Thellind scrambled over from where they had been rushing to prepare themselves for the guests and teetered on the edge of the bed, looking at the old box with wide eyes.  
  
"I wondered where he went." Whispered Thellind, as Legolas just stared with his mouth hanging open slightly. "How could you just stuff him under your bed like that?"  
  
"I needed to hide him quickly. What would the servants and the guards think of us if they knew we still kept him?" came Nilwethion's reply, "Halallindë was coming in and I needed to hide him. She dragged me off because adar was angry with me again and I forgot to get him back out."  
  
They carefully opened the ancient box, revealing an equally ancient and battered teddy bear, showing all the signs of years of love and care. One of the large, bright blue glass eyes had fallen out, and was replaced by a small red button, half the size of the other eye. The thread it was attached with seemed to be a dull shade of mossy green. One ear hung limply by a single stitch, and the pink leather that was once so new and perfect was now scraggy, half ripped and half glued on to the ears and paws by sticky tree sap. The brown fur was all worn away, only appearing here and there in balding tufts, gone lumpy with age and hugs. The rest of the toy was worn so thin in places that the stuffing showed and was trying to make its way through. The little black nose was long gone, replaced by an empty nutshell, and the string making the shape of the mouth was fluffy and shrivelled.  
  
Legolas carefully picked up the battered toy with the love and respect of a parent picking up a newborn child, and held it up to see it more easily in the flickering lamplight, grinning widely.  
  
"Lin!" he breathed, "I thought you had left us!"  
  
"Little Greenleaf, what is that you have?"  
  
The three princes whipped around, startled. Legolas flung the dilapidated bear behind his back, only to see it that it was just Nuryävié standing there with Calensil in front of him. The three breathed a collective sigh of relief, and Legolas brought the ancient mascot back in to view.  
  
"Look who Nilwethion found," he grinned, holding up Lin carefully. The brother and sister gasped.  
  
Calensil tore across the room and plucked Lin out of her brothers' hands and began to cradle it. She stopped suddenly and turned to Legolas, a tear glistening in her eye.  
  
"Where is his ear, Legolas?" she whimpered. The ear, which had only moments ago been hanging on by a single stitch, was gone. The four brothers turned as pale as the new snow in winter, and started looking around for it desperately, flinging aside everything to find it. The small triangle of forlorn fabric had fallen off when Legolas had tried to hide the bear, the thread not able to take any more. Thellind picked it up and held it to the light.  
  
"Oh no," he moaned, "Poor Lin! His ear!"  
  
"I shall sew it back on as soon as I get a moment," said Legolas, his voice shaking slightly, "We had better put him back in the box before he gets hurt any more."  
  
Calensil gently returned Lin to the box and Thellind laid the little ear by the bear, and then they closed the creaking lid. A tear dribbled down her cheek. Legolas grabbed her in to a hug as more tears began to flow down her pretty face.  
  
"Hey, shush little baby. Don't cry, Legolas is going to make Lin better. You have to stop crying now because the nice elves from Imladris are coming any minute and we have to go down to the great hall to meet them. You do not want to cry in front of them do you?"  
  
The little princes shook her pretty head tearfully as Nilwethion used his sleeve as to mop up her tears. Nuryävié took her doll like hand and led her out of the room. As he was closing the door he turned to Thellind, Nilwethion and Legolas.  
  
"For the sake of the Valar get ready and get down there before adar gets angry. He is already tense enough as it is!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The sons of Elrond were quite definitely bored and tired. They may not have appeared to be from the outside, but they had just travelled through miles of unchanging darkness for what seemed like months and months, and they had not eaten since they had left the camp on the path in what had to pass as morning, and there was nothing to look at or do other than ride their horses and make mindless conversation. The halls of Mirkwood had come in to view, and they had been greeted by ten soldiers, led by a captain. He had a deep and recent gash across his left cheek, and unblinking eyes. The elf looked tired, as if he had only come away from a battle the day before, and he seemed to be cold, offering little in the way of conversation. Elladan turned to his brother.  
  
"Wonderful," he whispered, as the captain and Elrond rode side by side, the captain answering Elrond's questions with short answers. None of the other troops had made any move to begin a conversation and seemed as bland as their leader.  
  
"We have just ridden hundreds of leagues across mountains and through the darkest forest possible to be greeted by people who may as well be made of stone!" he continued "I do hope they are not all like this. If they are I am sure we shall go mad! I wish we had never made that promise about being on our 'best behaviour' to adar,"  
  
His twin nodded in agreement, his eyes searching over the faces of the dark green and brown clad warriors, hoping for a spark of interest. Instead, the warriors all seemed to be weary, as if they had just been fighting, but Elrohir found that impossible to believe. After all, they were still in the middle of peace time, were they not?  
  
"Adar said that we shall be spending a lot of time with the royal children. If they are like these guards, I do not know what I will do. Three whole months of boredom! Oh look, I think we are here."  
  
They were, indeed, there. The twins dismounted with the rest of the Imladris party and were lead by the soldiers over a bridge as stable boys took their horses away silently, with a small bow to the Elves before whispering to the horses in tones too low for either Elladan or Elrohir to be able to hear the words.  
  
"I do not like them taking away our horses," muttered Elrohir, "Who knows how they treat them?"  
  
"They had better look after them well," growled Elladan, in low tones. One of the Rivendell party gently pushed the twins forewords until they were standing beside their parents Elladan suspected that it was Glorfindel. In front of them, the royal family was stood. The king looked tense, and three of the princes looked impassive, but the Queen and the princess were positively shinning with smiles – although there were stains on the princess's cheeks as if she had been crying – and the fourth prince just looked bored. He was staring at Elrond and Celebrian, but in his eyes there did not seem to be any great respect or wonder such as there had been when visitors first saw the lord and lady in Imladris.  
  
"I thought there were seven of them," whispered Elladan.  
  
"There are," replied Elrohir  
  
"I meant seven brats . . . um, children,"  
  
They counted again. Definitely only five children. The royal family bowed, or curtseyed, and the twins remembered to return the gesture only just in time. They tried to edge backwards out of the limelight, but found themselves being held in place by one of the elf lords. Glorfindel again, most likely.  
  
"Lord Elrond, I am very glad you made it. You had a safe journey, I hope?" the king was the first to speak, and the captain who had been accompanying the Elves of Imladris was now standing just behind him. Elladan blinked. He had not noticed the Elf move.  
  
"Very safe, and quite enjoyable, King Thranduil. Please meet my wife, Lady Celebrian and my children, Elladan and Elrohir," replied Elrond. His eyes flicked down the row of royal children, also noticing the two gaps.  
  
"This is Queen Imlammthien, my wife, and my children Oroweth, Astaler, Nuryávië, Thellind and our daughter Calensil," the king was smiling, but the smile seemed strained somehow.  
  
"I was under the impression you had two more sons, your majesties,"  
  
"So were we my lady Celebrian," answered Imlammthien, making light of the situation. Her eyes flickered towards the entrance of their halls "It seems that two have gone missing. Thellind dear, do you have any idea where they are?"  
  
"Yes Naneth."  
  
The twins looked the prince up and down. This was the one who appeared bored and restless. The twins had wondered if the prince might possibly be a little bit interesting, but with such a short, strait, simple answer like that there was no hope for him. He was as snobbish and dull as the rest of them. The twins exchanged a quick glance, but Elrond intercepted it and glared warningly at them both. The twins quickly looked away; anywhere but at their father.  
  
"Could you go and fetch them then please, dear? They ought to be here,"  
  
The twins noticed a small grin flash across the princes' face. What was his name again? Thellind, or something similar, was it not? There could be a flicker of hope after all.  
  
"It seems there is no need Naneth. They are here,"  
  
He looked around, and the twins' suspected it was to hide a smirk as much as anything else. They followed his gaze and grinned widely. The two stray princes were running gracefully down the palace steps, hair flying behind them, and then they came to a grinding halt at the end of the line. The princess began giggling, the king went red and the queen let out a distressed sigh. She turned to Lady Celebrian.  
  
"Well, my lady, these are my other two sons. This is Nilwethion, and this is Legolas." The two princes made a quick bow, and eyed the Imladris Elves carefully. Like their people, they were not overly trusting of strangers.  
  
"Legolas, Nilwethion, where have you been?" The kings voice was strained, and the Mirkwood elves around the family were passing pained looks to each other. Elladan smiled to himself with relief. It would seem that the three months may not be so boring after all.  
  
Legolas and Nilwethion looked at each other nervously.  
  
"We were late, adar. We are very sorry." The slightly smaller one – Legolas – answered for both brothers. He looked at the ground.  
  
"We know that my dears, but your adar is asking why you are late."  
  
Lady Celebrian pitied the queen. She came across so calm and collected and sweet, but she must have been burning up with embarrassment. Especially with . . .  
  
"We were just late, Naneth. We are very sorry. We tried very hard not to be,"  
  
The queen shook her head at the princes and, as she turned, away her eyes locked with those of Celebrian. She gave a small, hopeless smile, as if to say 'I'm sorry'. Celebrian returned the smile. She understood the pain of the queen, having two sons who had a habit of turning up in a similar fashion, though she doubted that the two princes could cause as much trouble as Elladan and Elrohir. At least the princes had not tried to be late.  
  
"I shall talk to you later about," began the king. The twins saw the small flinch the princes gave, "These are our guests. Lord Elrond, Lady Celebrian, Elladan and Elrohir and some members of their household,"  
  
The bowed quickly, turning a pink colour. The king and queen turned back to the Elves from Imladris.  
  
"My lords and ladies, allow our people to show you to the quarters prepared for you, please. We are sure you must be weary after such a long journey. If you would like to rest now, we have a feast prepared tonight in the forest,"  
  
The Mirkwood elves ushered the Imladris elves in to the great halls of their king, letting the two late arriving princes step out of the spotlight as quickly as they could. The two elves turned to their brothers and sisters.  
  
"Why were you late?" hissed Thellind, "Adar will have your necks as soon as we get some peace!" Legolas and Nilwethion shrugged.  
  
"We were making sure Lin is safe, where nobody can see or find him. Oh, and Nilwethion's hair was in such a state after rummaging around under the bed. It took both of us with two brushes to get through the mess!"  
  
Calensil giggled and stuck her arms up towards Nuryävié, indicating that she wanted to be carried NOW. Nuryávië, who, like his other brothers, always found himself obeying every wish and order his sister ever gave, picked her up. As he did so, he noticed the twins standing not far away from the group, watching every move the princes made, like eagles. He nodded at them respectfully. His siblings turned to see whom he was nodding at and instantly pulled themselves together, becoming tense. The twins grinned and stalked over, avoiding getting in the way of other Elves.  
  
"We just had to say we loved you arrival," said one. Not one of the princes could tell which one had spoken.  
  
"Such style," agreed the other. The royals kept their faces impassive, unsure as to whether the twins had given them a compliment or a sarcastic insult. There was a pause as the twins smirked.  
  
"Was that sarcasm?" asked Legolas after a moment, "Or were you being sincere?"  
  
"Oh we were being sincere." the first twin spoke again, "Very sincere, in fact. Why would we lie to you?"  
  
"You all seemed to tighten up when you noticed us," said the other, looking over the impassive faces in front of them.  
  
Nilwethion was getting confused, and the confusion was aggravating him. He could not tell one twin from the other and he did not like it. He was unused to such confusion, and did not like to feel so pinned down in his own home.  
  
"Well you are wrong, we did not. We are always like this. Why should we change our ways for you?"  
  
Legolas thumped him in the back, not hard, but hard enough. Oroweth glared at his younger brother, and Astaler folded his arms and rolled his eyes.  
  
"Nilwethion, shut up before you say something to anger adar." He said. Legolas noticed how toneless his voice was. He frowned inwardly. Perhaps it was not just he, Nilwethion and Thellind who were so worried and unhappy about the visit. Perhaps his elder brothers felt the same way, too.  
  
"So you really are as arrogant as we expected you to be?" one grinned. Legolas could not tell for certain which it was, but he thought it was Elrohir.  
  
"Arrogant? Us?" Legolas had to bite his tongue to stop himself from yelling it out loud in anger, instead of just hissing it, "You are the arrogant ones!"  
  
"It looks as though we might not be in for such a boring three months at all, Elladan. We might be able to have some fun, after all." said one of the twins, proving Legolas incorrect in his guess. Without another word, the twins turned around and disappeared off through the bustle of Elves, out of sight. Oroweth tightened his lips.  
  
"If any of them give you any hassle at all," he growled, "tell Astaler and I. Do not let adar hear about though. After all the preparation that has gone in to this meeting, I would hate to see him crushed at its failure because of his sons."  
  
His younger brothers and Calensil nodded, their mood dampened. One by one they dispersed to the great halls in which they lived, thinking darkly about the twins.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
DOT ~~ Chaos. Yup, I think that about sums it up  
  
ASH ~~ Glad you think it will be interesting. Personally, I'm dreading to see what they do next.  
  
DAW THE MINSTREL ~~ None of them have any sense at all. Not a scrap of it between them.  
  
GREENLEAFGRL ~~ Celebsil is cute, and she has them all wrapped nicely around her little finger.  
  
ANALIA ~~ Pretty name. Glad you like it. It's only good depending on the point of view. Imagine it for Elrond or Thranduil. Then it would be VERY bad.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ Thanks for the review; I'm glad you liked it.  
  
JUST A READER ~~ Like I said to Imbefaniel, thanks for the review and I'm glad you like it. 


	3. Feasting And Challenges

Chapter 3 – Feasting And Challenges  
  
Thranduil's children were sat on the floor in a circle around the teddy bear Lin in silence, dressed in their second set of new, clean robes in one day, having changed already for the feast prepared for later that night. As usual, Calensil was sitting on Legolas' lap, her tiny fingers entwining themselves with his hair, resolute in making a mess. At last, Thellind broke the silence.  
  
"I still do not believe that those twins are so arrogant! It is just our luck to get lumbered with such a pair of fools. I wish they would have been more like us."  
  
Oroweth shrugged his shoulders and sighed softly in a way that, had he known it, was reminiscent of his mother. It was not just looks in which he was a carbon copy of her, but the way he acted as well.  
  
"They seemed to find it hard to believe that we are not like them at all. It is possible, I suppose. However, you say 'us'. We are not all rule breaking delinquents, I may remind you. That is left to you three, and sometimes Calensil if the mood takes her."  
  
"I say we challenge them to a game of dares," said Nilwethion thoughtfully, fiddling with the fine gold embroidery on his hated white sleeve. Why white? Of all colours, it had to be white. The easiest shade to get dirty. It would certainly be a challenge to keep clean all evening. His suggestion was greeted by gasps and chokes.  
  
"No! Nilwethion you idiot, we can't! We promised adar to behave for three whole months! Whenever you play Dares, somebody ALWAYS ends up in trouble of some sort. Do you hear me? No Dares!" Thellind, forever trying to persuade his younger brothers not to get in trouble so often, was often ignored. He tugged at his the high collar on his robes uncomfortably.  
  
"Why are you panicking, big brother? Scared? The shade of your face is almost equal to your maroon robes!"  
  
"Maroon is better than white, at least, although I do not see why we could not have stuck to normal greens and greys and browns." came the retort, "I am not scared! I just know that whenever you suggest something, everything goes wrong,"  
  
Astaler spoke at last, shifting position so he could lounge more comfortably. He did not look at any of his siblings, but instead he focused a point somewhere in the middle of the circle that only he could see.  
  
"I know we promised adar to behave, but those two half bloods came over as being rather full of themselves. I say we play Dares, as Nilwethion suggests. After all, we know Mirkwood better than we know each other. We have the upper hand. There is no way we could loose," His brothers gaped at him. Was this Astaler speaking? Astaler, the nice, quiet, obedient warrior, who never broke his word and had never been in trouble his whole life? Astaler? Surely not! It looked like him, but he would never in the past take such a risk of upsetting Thranduil and the elders.  
  
"No," moaned Thellind, "No Astaler, no! Why are you agreeing with Nilwethion?" he was blatantly ignored. Astaler and Nilwethion, it seemed, were not the only two who thought a game of Dares was a good idea.  
  
"When do we give them the challenge?" Legolas' eyes were gleaming brightly in the candlelight, eager at the prospect of a challenge and revenge for the earlier display given by the twins. Thellind groaned loudly and gave in.  
  
"Tonight, at the feast, whilst nobody is paying attention. Tell them to come here tonight, as soon as the feast is over,"  
  
"I shall bring them," smiled Calensil sweetly, "They do not know where this room is, after all. Could I offer the challenge? Please? Oh, please let me!"  
  
Nilwethion grinned at his sister. She was becoming a proper little troublemaker, and with a little more practise she would be able to cause endless amounts of havoc and yet never be in trouble, using her charms to claim innocence.  
  
"What about Lin?" Legolas suddenly remembered the earless teddy bear shut in its old oak box.  
  
"Little Greenleaf, what are you talking about?" asked Astaler  
  
"Lin has lost an ear. We cannot make any challenges if Lin has not got an ear. Its bad luck. Do you remember what happened last time?"  
  
They remembered all right. They winced at the memory, trying valiantly to forget it. That time, however, it had not been an ear missing, but an eye. The day before the challenge had been set the eye had come away and rolled down a small hole. Not one of the princes had been able to reach it, the hole being too small, and Calensil had not yet been born. They had left the eye, set the challenge, and suffered an embarrassing defeat. Never again would they take part in a challenge if Lin were not whole.  
  
"How are we supposed to get the thread to sew it back on?" he calmly repeated the question as he saw the pained expressions of his brothers. For a while, nobody seemed to know, and the Legolas realised his little sister had moved on from knotting his hair, to picking at his clothes. He pulled away her tiny hands in distress. The sleeve of his new outfit, detested as it may be, was in shreds at the cuff.  
  
"Calensil! What have you done?" he cried. In anguish, he touched the little loose threads.  
  
A tear trickled down the little girls face and dropped on to her lilac dress, followed by another and another. Fake tears, of course. She had not really cried for weeks now. A long time, for a small child of her age. She held out a small collections of the threads she had picked away.  
  
"I was only trying to get thread for Lin," she sniffed, wiping her eyes on his other sleeve. Legolas bit his lip, feeling guilty for making his sister cry, even though he was sure that the tears were not real.  
  
"I'm sorry Calensil, please do not cry. I just – failed to realise what you were doing. That is all. I am really, really sorry,"  
  
Calensil carried on giving small sniffs of fake upset. Nuryävié rolled his eyes to the ceiling, but got a filthy glare from Nilwethion. Their little sister was, after all, the most beloved thing on the earth in the opinion of the princes.  
  
"Legolas?" Through fake sniffs, Calensil looked up at her brother with big, water eyes.  
  
"Can I sit on your knee at the feast?"  
  
"You always do,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Thranduil was sitting back in his seat in the middle of the forest clearing where the feast was taking place, worried. He had every right to be. Not even an hour, and things had gone wrong. Legolas and Nilwethion had turned up late, earning raised eyebrows and even mirth from the Imladris Elves. What would happen next? He shuddered, even the thought of it scaring him. The king was sure the pair had not meant to be late, thus embarrassing his parents, but they still had been. He was certain something else was going to go, and if not wrong, then at least not right.  
  
"Darling, the children are here," the voice of Imlammthien brought Thranduil back to the present. He closed his eyes fearfully for a moment, and then opened them, dreading what he would see.  
  
When he opened his eyes, it was not as bad as he suspected it was going to be. His children had assembled themselves before him in age order before they sat down, as was their custom. Thranduil looked them up and down one by one.  
  
Oroweth, yes, he was immaculate as always. Nothing less was expected. On reflection, perhaps he ought to have been the one in white, not Nilwethion. Oroweth would be far more likely not to stain the clothes given to him with wine or juice from the berries.  
  
Astaler, like his brother, perfect. With a flick of his sharp eyes, however, Thranduil took in the dagger at his second sons side. Not so perfect. This would not do. It may be a fancy, showy dagger, but it was a dagger nonetheless, and was not acceptable around guests. If the lords and ladies of Imladris were to see the dagger, they would be most upset at the thought of not being trusted by their hosts.  
  
"Astaler," he sighed, "Why are you wearing a dagger?" Astaler bit his lip uneasily, aware of all the eyes now upon him.  
  
"I do not feel comfortable without it Adar. I do not mean to offend you, or any of our guests, nor do I intend to use it," his clear voice rang through the clearing in to the night, appearing confident. Thranduil frowned.  
  
"It is, however, a dagger. I do not believe we will need it. Give it to me,"  
  
Slowly, Astaler took the dagger in its sheath away from his belt and handed it to Thranduil. He stepped back in to line, and as he did so was eternally grateful his father had not noticed the sharp knife in his boot.  
  
The king moved on to Nuryävié. As with Oroweth, there was nothing wrong. There was a slight sheen in his eye that Thranduil was not used to, but he passed over it as a reflection from the large bonfire in the centre. The sheen had seemed almost rebellious, but there was nothing that Thranduil could think of to make him want to rebel in any way.  
  
Thellind next. Now were the children whom worried him most. The clothing appeared to be in order, however the princes sleek hair was over his face, hiding his expression as he stared down at the floor.. Not good. Was Thellind hiding something, perhaps?  
  
"Thellind dear, please take your hair out of your face. How are we to see your hansom features if they are covered?" the queen trilled, saving Thranduil from wasting his breath. Reluctantly, and blushing brightly, Thellind removed the hair from his face, tucking the long locks behind his pointed ears. He turned even redder as a group of local maidens started giggling close by.  
  
As the king turned his eyes upon Nilwethion, he winced. Yes, he should definitely put Oroweth in the white, and Nilwethion in Oroweth's colours. Any colour would do, actually. Brown would have been best. The leggings were already dusty from dirt that had been picked up on the way from the halls. If it were Oroweth in the white, the clothes would still have been spotless. Well, there was nothing to be done about it. Nilwethion also, like Astaler, had his dagger at his side. The king glared meaningfully. Without needing to be asked, the prince handed over the dagger to his mother. 'Not me,' noticed Thranduil, but the king said nothing.  
  
He slid his eyes along to Legolas, and then he shut them in despair.  
  
"Why, Legolas?"  
  
"Why what, Adar?"  
  
Thranduil groaned down and put his head in his hands, not bothering to answer. Instead, the queen took over.  
  
"I think your father means to say, is why the cuff of one sleeve completely ruined? You were only given those robes an hour or two ago, little Greenleaf."  
  
Prince Legolas stood there, staring blankly at his Naneth. Heads turned to see what the prince had done this time, and what excuse he had. He must be running low on excuses by now, the amount he and his siblings had used. The young prince always managed to surprise them, however, by churning out excuse after excuse, each as fabulous as the last.  
  
"Well Naneth, I must have caught it on a branch or thorn on my way here without realising. I am very sorry."  
  
Every Elf from Mirkwood could tell he was lying, but seemingly none of the Elves from Imladris had noticed. Imlammthien shook her head sadly, but did not press the matter.  
  
Running her eyes quickly over her only daughter, and seeing there was nothing wrong with her, she nodded at the siblings to sit down. They did so, choosing a place at the opposite end of the table.  
  
Thranduil observed his children with a tingling feeling. Not one of them had chosen to sit anywhere near their parents. In fact, they had sat as far away from the royal couple as possible. It was strange. Usually, at least one of the princes would take their place by the side of their mother or father. The king wondered about this sudden change, and it worried him. It was also very unusual for all of his children to get on. Perhaps they were just making a special effort.  
  
Next to him, Lord Elrond leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Thranduil nodded, and Elrond settled back in to his seat. The king stood up, and looked around to make sure every elf coming was present, and then raised his goblet. Projecting his voice around the clearing, he called loudly, "Let the feasting begin!"  
  
The statement was greeted with cheers, and immediately the musicians set up a lively tune. Barrels of fine wine, white and red, were broken open and Elves began to eat, chatting happily to each other and mingling. Everything was so much more relaxed than the arrival of the party, earlier in the day.  
  
On their table, the royal children sat quietly and in solitude for once, as if segregated from the rest of the feast. Thellind had taken the hair out from behind his ears again to cover his face, ashamed of the fancy clothes he was wearing. He was far more comfortable in his leggings and tunic, but he had been told that for such an occasion those clothes were inadequate. Nilwethion continuously ran his fingers along the inside of his collar, pulling it away from his throat.  
  
"I cannot stand these things!" he moaned quietly, "I can hardly breathe! Give me my hunting clothes and I shall never ask for anything again," his brothers and sister smiled, the mood around the table lightening slightly.  
  
"Can you see the twins anywhere?" asked Legolas, craning above the crowds to try and see. Already, couples were dancing around the bonfire, giggling and flirting, moving swiftly in time to the fast beat being played like leaves on the wind in autumn.  
  
"No . . . wait, yes I can. They are over there. Calensil, go and deliver the message now, before they disappear."  
  
Calensil slipped off Legolas' lap daintily, taking a handful of berries from a bowl in the centre as she left. Sidestepping the dancers and serving Elves, she made her way across to the dark haired twins who, like the royal children, were sitting alone and talking quietly.  
  
Her brothers watched anxiously as she spoke to the sons of Elrond, popping a berry in her mouth every so often. She was turning slightly, this way and that, holding the skirt of her dress, moving it almost subconsciously to make the dress swish loudly.  
  
"Look at her charming them," laughed Oroweth, "she will become a heartbreaker when she is older,"  
  
His brothers joined in with the mirth. As Calensil and the twins turned to look at the princes of Mirkwood, Legolas looked up from his laughter and threw a smug grin. The other five princes noticed, and turned to look, also smirking in a way that the twins would have described as arrogance.  
  
As they watched, Calensil turned back to the twins and licked her fingers, the last of the berries finished, but the juices still staining her hands. Legolas watched as the twins nodded, flicking another quick glance at him, and then Calensil turned back and skipped over to her brothers again. She flumped down on to Legolas' lap and ate another berry before saying, "They accept the challenge,"  
  
Thellind sighed inwardly. They were his last hope of staying out of trouble, and that hope had just been blown away like a lone cloud in the wind. The others, however, did not seem to notice, laughing again and pouring wine, already planning difficult dares.  
  
As he reached for a bread roll from the basket in the middle of the table, the prince realised that his sibling were not the only ones close by laughing. Looking sideways, he saw a group of young Elven maidens looking at them, giggling. A mix of Mirkwood ladies and Imladris ladies, he noted, they seem to be getting along well. As soon as he looked at them, all five of them snatched their heads away, looking in the opposite direction, giggling even harder and turning a bright shade of pink. Thellind shook his head and turned back to his food.  
  
"It would appear you have admirers, little one," grinned Nuryävié, also noticing the maidens.  
  
"I do not!" he protested  
  
"You do. I dare you, Thellind Thranduilion, to go and ask the one in the rose pink dress with the blonde hair to dance!"  
  
"No!" he gasped, "I cannot do that!"  
  
"Coward!" sniggered Legolas. Thellind bit his lip. Why did it have to be him? Out of six brothers, and a lot more male Elves, why him? Making a decision, he turned to Legolas.  
  
"Alright then, little brother, I accept the challenge, as long as you come with me."  
  
Legolas stopped laughing instantly, and the jovial grin left his face to be replaced by a frown.  
  
"I dared you!"  
  
Thellind smiled and took a sip of wine.  
  
"I am aware of that little Greenleaf, however I am not asking you to ask one of them to dance, merely to accompany me, as I ask one to dance."  
  
Legolas frowned. There was something not quite right about this, but he was not sure what it was. He was, however, afraid of his brothers calling him a coward, as he had done to Thellind, so he lifted Calensil from his own knee on and placed her on the wooden bench. Getting up, he walked over to the maidens, slightly behind his older brother.  
  
"My ladies," he heard Thellind say. The maidens began giggling in to hands and handkerchiefs, "Or should I say my lady," he continued, singling out the allocated elf in the rose pink dress, "My brother wishes to ask you for a dance, however, 'tis a shame, he is too nervous to ask you himself."  
  
It took Legolas a couple of moments to realise what had been said, and by then it was too late. The Elven maiden had stopped giggling, instead her cheeks flushing a shade of pink to match her dress, and was stood in front of him, smiling nervously. She held out her hand for Legolas to take, and, having no other option, the youngest son of Thranduil took it politely, with a small bow.  
  
The tricked prince gave the smug Thellind a pleasant yet fake smile, and led his new companion in pink out in to the centre of the clearing where the other couples were dancing. The musicians set up a new tune, faster and merrier than the previous one. To Legolas, it seemed unreal. He had set his brother a dare, and ended up dancing himself! Revenge was on the menu for later, but now? Now, he had a different problem. The maiden he was dancing with was, admittedly, quite lovely, smiling at him and staring deep in to his eyes, but it was unnerving him. Prince Legolas was unused to girls, apart from his little sister. He had been taught how to behave around this alien species, and how to dance, of course, but his lessons had never been put in to use up until now.  
  
He gulped, and gazed back at her. In his head, a little voice was saying, 'relax, just relax you fool!' and another voice was saying, 'ask her what her name is, you idiot!' whilst another was saying, 'ai Valar, ai Valar, ai Valar, ai Valar!'  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Back at the tables, Thellind had sauntered back over to sit with his brothers and sister, leaving four maids disappointed that they had not been asked for a dance. He sat down smugly.  
  
"I thought Legolas dared you to ask her for a dance," questioned Oroweth, swallowing a lump of meat. Thellind shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"I was under the impression the Dare game had not yet begun," he replied simply, "So I turned the tables on the little one,"  
  
They burst in to laughter.  
  
"You must admit, Thellind, that he is a very good dancer," smiled Astaler, "Better than you, perhaps,"  
  
Again that evening, Thellind felt as though he was being picked on. He clamped his teeth together and tried to rise above the taunt. Instead, he smiled nastily at his elder sibling and carried on sipping red wine and eating meat. The others though, did not seem to want to let him have any peace.  
  
"Astaler is right, you know. Legolas is a better dancer than you. I'm sure of it," said Nilwethion, trying valiantly to keep a strait face but just not managing he turned away to hide his wicked laughter.  
  
"You are quite a . . . how can I put this kindly? Quite a poor dancer," agreed Oroweth, teasingly. Calensil sat shaking with mirth on the bench, and popped another handful of berries in her mouth. She took a small sip of her brothers' wine, ignoring her goblet of water, and made a small cough.  
  
"I think you should have a dance competition," she smiled sweetly, "In fact, I declare that there will be a competition in two dances time. To her brothers surprise, and to her fathers shame from where he watched a few at the other side of the large glade, she carefully stood up on the bench, still holding the goblet of wine which did not belong to her, and then clambering up on to the table itself, she picked up a knife and banged it on the side of the goblet, drawing attention to herself from all the elves in the feast. Everything stopped, as people turned to look at her.  
  
"Lords and ladies of Imladris and Mirkwood," she called in her high, piping voice, "I declare a dance competition, in two dances time. The king and queen of Mirkwood, and the lord and lady of Imladris, shall be the judges, helped by an elf each of their own choice. The prize is to be a fine amphora of Dorwinion wine,"  
  
She climbed daintily down from the table, helped by her two eldest brothers, and then sat back down.  
  
Around them, elves seemed to be suddenly pairing up, as if by magic.  
  
"Well," muttered Oroweth, "I suppose we had better find ourselves partners then,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: I wasn't planning on having a dance competition, but it adds to the fun and Calensil wanted one. If Calensil wants something, who am I to refuse it?  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THING  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ As you see, it supposed to be Calensil. I blame the spell check. That is why they made them promise. As you can see, the promises didn't even last a day.  
  
LOTR FAN ~~ Thank you very much for your review, I'm glad you like it.  
  
FAN81981 ~~ Thranduil has seven children. In order of age; Oroweth, Astaler, Nuryávië, Thellind, Nilwethion, Legolas and Calensil. The few extra mischievous elves are Legolas' brothers and sister. I'm VERY sorry about the modern language; I'll try very hard not to let it happen again. LEGOLAS4ME ~~ I was going to make the three oldest princes sincere and reserved, but as you can see, it just didn't happen.  
  
DAW THE MINSTREL ~~ The teddy bear, Lin, is very special to the Mirkwood royal children. It was first given to Oroweth when he was born by Mithrandir, and then when Astaler was born Oroweth gave it to him, and then Astaler gave it to Nuryávië and so on and so on until it came to be Calensil's. By then, it was extremely loved by all of them, had been lost and found various times, and had acquired lots of characters, as toys etc. do. Even though they knew that Lin was a child's toy, and though they were not all adults, they were all fully grown apart from Calensil, they still loved the teddy bear to pieces because they had told it all their deepest secrets and it had been there for them, as not all people are, in times of need. They realised they were all far too close to Lin to let him be thrown away or similar when their little sister outgrew toys (as all children do for a few years before realising how wonderful cuddly toys are), rescued it, and kept it safe in the little box where nobody outside the siblings knew about it. Lin is like a whole character, as important to the story as any of the others. It's like their mascot, lucky charm and secret keeper and beloved friend.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ Thank you SO much for pointing out the mistakes. I am eternally grateful.  
  
GREENLEAFGRL ~~ They should fit in perfectly, and will do soon, but they have not quite yet. Then royals still don't trust the twins.  
  
NILMANDRA ~~ Yes, they are the same girl. No, Mirkwood won't ever be the same. Nobody ever said that was a good thing though. Don't forget about the little princess! Also, this time it seems as though all the princes are joining in the havoc. It certainly will be havoc when the Dare game gets under way.  
  
NIENNA ~~ I'm glad you found this funny. It's my first attempt on ff.net at comedy writing.  
  
JEBB ~~ That makes two of us. I have no control over these characters, so I only have a basic idea of what will happen. The dance competition, as I said previously in the A/N, was not planned. It just turned out that way because Calensil wanted it to. 


	4. Spin Me A Kiss

Chapter 4 – Spin Me A Kiss  
  
The princes easily found themselves partners in no time at all, as was to be expected. They were royalty, after all, and royalty attracts admirers like a fly to a lamp, although the Elves would not like that description. Thellind, Astaler and Oroweth had paired themselves up quickly with the three remaining ladies from the earlier group; Legolas was still dancing with the pretty elf in pink who still had no name, Nuryävié had found a beautiful yet nervous woman from Imladris who had been sitting alone and Nilwethion had chatted up the nearest serving girl, who giggled at every turn, surprised to be in such high company, yet loving every moment of it. Calensil herself had chosen not to take part in the competition for fear of being trampled and had begun following the captain of the warriors around, very much unnerving the poor elf. As stunning as he was when wielding weapons – unmatched by any soul living in Mirkwood or the surrounding lands – small children unnerved, nay, scared him terribly.  
  
At the high table, watching over the sudden turn of events with a slight confusion and dismay, the king sat frowning. Queen Imlammthien laid her hand on his arm and looked at him lovingly, worried about his lack of humour.  
  
"What is it, dear? You ought to be enjoying yourself. Everybody else is, after all, and there is nothing to be upset about."  
  
The king shrugged and sighed, pulling himself together at the caring tones of his beloved wife. She was right, after all. After a moment, in a thoughtful tone, he said, "I do not remember organising a dance competition, and I certainly do not remember giving permission for the Dorwinion stuff to be used as the prize,"  
  
The queen sat back, smiling softly to herself in a knowing manner. So that was all the problem was. She had suspected as much, but had not been completely certain. No real problem then.  
  
"I think the idea was quite wonderful, my darling," she said, the smile playing on her lips threatening to burst open in to gentle peals of relieved laughter. She quickly covered it by delicately taking up her goblet of wine and sipping a little of its contents. The king copied, only to find his goblet empty. He looked at it sadly, but put it back down, pretending he had only just finished it.  
  
"Wonderful though it may be, I wish I had been previously informed. My children must learn discipline, Imlammthien."  
  
Imlammthien laughed happily, though quickly turned her laugh in to a small bout of coughing when she saw the look on her husbands face. She turned to the Lady of Imladris, who was sitting opposite her, and struck up a conversation about the dancers, and who would be good to watch, leaving Thranduil to talk with Elrond about more serious matters.  
  
"I find myself concerned about my sons," muttered Elrond to Thranduil. Thranduil raised an eyebrow. In his voice, Thranduil was sure that he could hear an echo of himself.  
  
"How so, Lord Elrond?" he asked, refilling both their goblets with the sweet, red wine. Elrond took a sip before informing the king of his worries, savouring the expensive taste of his drink.  
  
"They are not socialising. It is usually a bad sign. Trouble always comes of it, someway or another," he raised the goblet to his lips for another draught, letting it trickle down his throat, refreshing him.  
  
"Trouble?" queried Thranduil. Warning bells were going off in his head, but he tried his best to ignore them, "What kind of trouble do you mean?"  
  
"That is the thing," sighed the Lord, "Some sort of pranks, usually; practical jests. Occasionally they are quite hilarious, though mainly they are quite silly or dangerous, and all of them at the expense of another unfortunate soul. Usually my dear little Arwen, though when she visits Lothlorien they tend to pick on Lindir, our minstrel. They are the worst troublemakers west of the Misty Mountains."  
  
The King of Mirkwood could no longer ignore the warning bells in his head, which had now increased at an alarming rate and rang in his ears like the clamour of battle. He put two and two together, and groaned loudly. He tapped his wife on the shoulder, interrupting her. She turned to look at him, excusing herself from the far more relaxed conversation that she had been having with Celebrian.  
  
"Yes, my dear?"  
  
"Lord Elrond has just informed me that his sons are troublesome. The worst troublemakers on their side of the mountains, is the exact phrase," he stared in to her eyes, a vague look of panic written across his features in a desperate plea for help.  
  
"They have promised to be well behaved," interrupted Celebrian hurriedly, rushing to the defence of her family, "If they attempt anything, they know that they will be in more trouble than ever before."  
  
Her words did not reach the ears of the royal couple, the queen now returning the look of hopeless despair to her husband. She sat back in her seat, staring at her six sons one by one, now gathered with their partners by the flickering, hot bonfire. Her daughter, she was sure, was pestering their captain again. She would have to rescue him, if she could find them.  
  
"I suppose you have not heard, my dear," she said, addressing Celebrian with a voice that can only a mother can truly sympathise with, "my youngest sons also have a passion for creating trouble, dragging others with them as they go. I do hope they do nothing foolish."  
  
The four parents became silent, each running similar thoughts through their heads on different levels of panic. At least, reasoned Thranduil to himself, both parties had been forewarned off any possible trouble.  
  
"Oh," managed Celebrian at last, her voice trembling. She raised her slender, willowy fingers to her lips, and her wide eyes fixed on those of her new friend.  
  
"They did promise to behave themselves," muttered Thranduil, uncertainly. Promises like pie crusts were easily broken. In fact, promises like pie crusts were always, always broken, no matter what the intentions were.  
  
"I believe you placed your wager at a week," replied Imlammthien, a little sharply. The sharpness, however, must be forgiven. The poor queen was shaking with worry at the thoughts of what her children could be plotting.  
  
"And you have placed your at two," came the reply, equally as sharp.  
  
"Wager? What wager?" Celebrian was staring now at her hosts with worry.  
  
"On how long it takes before at least one child breaks their promise to behave," sighed the Queen sadly, "Oh look, they are beginning the competition!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
By the bonfire, the six princes and their partners grinned at each other, wishing each other good luck, and may the best pair win. Unfortunately for Legolas, he still did not know his partners name, although she knew his. He knew she was from Imladris, and only three years younger than himself, and that she had one sister, currently dancing with Oroweth, but he still did not know her name. The blonde prince kept meaning to ask her, but could not quite get the words out of his mouth. They kept sticking in his throat like copious amounts of honey, and refusing to budge any further.  
  
Now, however, they were in the middle of a competition, full of other competing couples, and he was becoming more and more nervous by the minute. Thellind would pay for this. Oh, yes, Thellind would get his comeuppance. Why could he not have just carried out the dare? Thellind was good around ladies, for the Valar's sake! They seemed to love the shyness. Apparently it was sweet, or something similar. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas noticed Nilwethion sweet-talking the serving girl he was dancing with. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"What is it, my lord prince?"  
  
The beautiful girl in pink had caught him off his guard, and was watching him intently, her eyes glowing brightly with the reflection of the huge bonfire that flickered away, warming them all up fiercely.  
  
"Oh, I was just watching my brother shamelessly flirting," he stammered  
  
"Which one? They all seem to flirt," then she smiled at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling like paper. Oh, that smile she had! It was worth far more than any dare game with the sons of Imladris or his jokes with his brothers. The smile itself held Legolas entranced, until he heard his little sisters voice bringing him with a thud back to reality.  
  
"Lords and ladies," called Calensil, over the crowd. Though Legolas could not see the speaker, he knew exactly where she was; sitting on their mothers lap. So, the captain had at last been rescued at last. He smiled softly to himself. The captain was not good around younglings. They always seemed to unnerve him, although the prince was unsure why.  
  
"There will be four dances!" continued the young, attention loving princess, "One set, two free and fast, one free and slow. Let the dancing begin!"  
  
The musicians set up a silly tune, the set one. It seemed they had consulted an Imladris elf, to make sure both parties new the tune and the steps that went along with it. The tune, it turned out, was a favourite among both parties.  
  
From where she sat comfortably, chewing on her hair, Calensil could not see all her brothers. She could see four of them; Oroweth, Astaler, Thellind and Nilwethion, but she could not see the other two. She craned her head, but decided the two others must be on the other side of the bonfire. She huffed a little, annoyed that she could not watch them all in the way that a magpie watches things which sparkle and glitter, but then turned her attention to other things.  
  
As she watched the dancers, all moving in exactly the same way, perfectly in time to the music, she became bored and began playing with her mothers' hair. She carried on plaiting, or knotting, as the case was, right through the set dance, listening to the judges debating all the different dancers, laughing here and there at the occasional joke. It was impossible for anyone at the feast to stay worried for long, even for Thranduil and Elrond.  
  
She looked up as the next tune started, and smiled happily, at last able to see Legolas and Nuryávië. Instead of judging the dancing, she began to judge the ladies her brothers were dancing with. She was very critical about all of them, and studied them intently.  
  
After a minute or two, she decided that either the servant girl, who seemed to be having the time of her life, or the pretty girl in pink was her favourite. She knew the servant girl, in a way, after following her brothers down in to the kitchens at midnight a few times in search of food and mischief. The girl – although it was hypocritical of Calensil to think of the servant as a 'girl' as she was much older than her – had once given her a little bowl full of sweet fruits which had been ripe and juicy, staining her hands and mouth. The other one, the one in pink, she did not know. An Imladris girl, she decided. In that case, the serving girl was the favourite. Calensil was a Mirkwood nationalist true and through.  
  
In the midst of the dancers, the princes were having the time of their lives. After nearly bumping in to each other, Nilwethion and Legolas had grinned at each other and stayed near each other for a while, exchanging comments both flattering their own partners and showing off their dancing skills at the same time. Every time they complemented their partners, the Elf maidens would blush violently and giggle, finding it hard to keep up with the rhythm. They, in turn, exchanged little comments about the princes, who laughed and basked in the compliments.  
  
On the third dance, Legolas whispered to his lady, "Would you like to spin?" so quietly only she could hear. She thought about it a moment, letting the beat of the music flow through her, and then nodded.  
  
In a flash, Legolas had his hands around her waist and the pair span around, their eyes fixed on each other so as not to get dizzy, the world around them moving in a blur of swirling colours and extorted shapes. Around and around they whirled, the momentum carrying them away in to their own little whirl, and all that penetrated in to it was the music. The fast, flowing music that flew through them and around them and in to their very souls.  
  
Next to them, Nilwethion could not resist a challenge. The serving girl he was dancing with saw the look in his eyes and realised what he was about to do, and began protesting. It failed to work. The prince began spinning her around anyway, and she only managed to let out a high squeak before she realised she loved the spin.  
  
The two princes, had they stopped spinning for long enough to see anything else but their partners would have realised that there was a widening circle around them. At first it began because none of the Elves wanted to be hit, but then some of the dancers began to stop dancing, solely to watch to see which couple would stop spinning first, laughing and placing bets of kisses. The watching Elves clapped in time to the rhythm, quickly taken up in the fun, forgetting quickly about the competition.  
  
Seeing what was happening, more elves began to gather to watch, and the musicians quickened the pace of the music, just to see how fast the couples could spin.  
  
When the small crowd around the dancers became so thick that Elves on the outside could not see, Calensil stood up on the table again, to watch her competing brothers, ignoring her parents' orders to get down and act like a properly brought up princess ought to act. She ignored the orders and watched her brothers spinning around with wide eyed curiosity, jiggling up and down every so often.  
  
Around the clearing, others saw what she was doing, and also stood up on the tables, at first clapping along with the rhythm, and then they began dancing themselves. The tables wobbled slightly as the feet pattered down on them, but not one threatened to break and not one bowl or plate of food was knocked over, nor goblet of wine spilt. Elves were like cats in that respect, never knocking things over, and being aware of everything around them.  
  
Where he sat, the king buried his head in his hands, wishing the world would swallow him up. Beside him, the queen was clapping along, laughing merrily at her spinning sons and the dancers on the tables. As she watched, Thellind and Astaler had raised their partners up on their shoulders so that they could see what was happening in the enclosed circle. At last she noticed her husband and sighed.  
  
"Oh Thranduil, please tell me you are enjoying this!"  
  
"I am afraid that I can not tell you anything else without lying," came the muffled reply. The queen sighed. As much as she loved him to pieces, her husband was sometimes the very limit. She sometimes wished that he would just lighten up when the occasion arose that he could. The chance for Thranduil to be happy did not come often, but when it did, he usually let it float by.  
  
"Well you know what they say," she said slowly. The king looked up at her, his head on one side.  
  
"What do who say?"  
  
"They say, if you cannot beat them, you may as well join them," she said, standing up carefully, watching the dancing figures on the tables with the air of one who longed to be with them.  
  
"I think you will find that that is our youngest four whenever they are in trouble and can not think of an excuse or alibi,"  
  
"Nonetheless, they still say it. If you do not come out and dance with me, I shall start dancing on the table with your daughter!"  
  
"No! I refuse to go out there and dance as though I have lost my mind!"  
  
"Very well then," she replied, looking as smug as her sons had earlier on in the night, stepping daintily up on to the table, "If that is your will . . ."  
  
She began dancing with her daughter, avoiding the food and wine on the table effortlessly, copying the style of the other partnerless dancers on other tables. She noticed Celebrian in her seat looking hopefully at Elrond, and the look of helplessness in Elronds eyes. She giggled loudly, and then held her hand out to Celebrian in order to help the lady get up on to the table. With a happy smile, Celebrian accepted the hand, and pulled herself up on the table, following in the queens' footsteps.  
  
"I have survived many battles," muttered Elrond to Thranduil, "And I have seen many things in my long life, though I have never experienced anything quite like this."  
  
"You find yourself not alone," muttered Thranduil back, "I believe we are the only two here who have not lost their heads."  
  
"No, King Thranduil, there are four of us. Glorfindel, you see, sitting on his own over there talking quietly to your captain, who seems to me quite scared. What is his name again? I fear I did not quite catch it previously."  
  
The king nodded, avoiding his wife's wayward skirt at it billowed out. Above them, Celebrian must have said something, because the three dancers began to giggle.  
  
"He is Captain Silnan, Lord Elrond," he said with a sigh. Again, there was laughter from somewhere above his head. He moved aside again as the skirt whisked around.  
  
"Ah yes, I remember now." He paused, and looked towards the musicians with a look of slight confusion. "I was brought to believe this particular piece of music was shorter than this,"  
  
"Yes, it is usually. It seems they are repeating it," shuddered the king, "I hope they do not see fit to repeat it again."  
  
Elrond nodded, and the pair took a very large draught of wine from their goblets, finishing the red liquid that had been occupying it. In an ornate silver jug, patterned with ivy leaves, vibrations from the dancers sent waves rippling along the surface of the wine. Elrond picked up the jug to refill his goblet.  
  
"More wine, King Thranduil?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
At last, the over speeded music came to an end, and the dancers on the table sat down in their seats again. The large crowd around the spinning couples thinned out to find a space to dance in for the next song, and the two spinning couples stopped spinning. As soon as they did, they collapsed on to the floor with dizziness, the world around them still spinning quickly. The maid and the girl in pink wafted their hands, fanning themselves and laughing, panting for breath. Legolas closed his eyes in an attempt to make the forest stay still. At last, they made themselves stand up, wobbly though they were, and began dancing the final, slow dance, wobbling occasionally on jelly like legs.  
  
The slow steps were a completely new world from the fast spinning that it came as a shock, though not an one.  
  
"My lady," Legolas found his voice shaking a little, partly from the dizziness, but partly from an unknown terror he had never felt before, "My lady I do not think I am aware of your name," he felt a blush rising from his boots, and wished it would go away.  
  
"I think you are unaware also," she giggled playfully.  
  
'She is playing tricks with me,' thought Legolas, as the blush rose quickly. He cursed the blush, and wished he was more like Nilwethion around girls; confident and popular.  
  
"Will you tell me your name?"  
  
Again she giggled.  
  
"I will,"  
  
The blush had now risen to his neck heating him up as it went, and it was fast rising to his face.  
  
"So what is your name, oh cruel lady, or are you going to break my heart and never tell me?"  
  
She leaned close to him.  
  
"My name," she whispered, "I will give for a kiss,"  
  
The blush had reached Legolas' forehead now and was becoming a deeper and deeper shade of red. The music that they were dancing to seemed to fade away, blending in to the background like the receding tides on the beaches of Valinor.  
  
Legolas bent his head down, level with the girls, and touched his lips with hers, the pair closing their eyes. The second they touched, an electric pulse flooded through his body, like he had never felt before. He felt her tongue wrapping gently around his, caressing it. The prince returned the gesture, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, running his hands through her hair. As they pulled away from each other, Legolas finally noticed the music had stopped; the song was over, and so was the competition. His siblings and their partners were staring at him, somewhere between a state of amazement and trying not to burst in to a fit of hysterics.  
  
He opened his mouth, reddening again, far more violently than before, and then closed it again, glaring sourly.  
  
Oroweth folded his arms and raised a perfect eyebrow with something that could only be badly concealed glee.  
  
"Impressive kiss, little Greenleaf. Especially seeing as it was your first,"  
  
"Oroweth!"  
  
The small group around the embarrassed pair began laughing loudly. The girl in pink turned to Legolas.  
  
"That was your first kiss?"  
  
The prince glared at his older brother, only succeeding in making Oroweth laugh even more. He said nothing, but the look on his face was enough.  
  
"It was mine too. You are a very good kisser, I think,"  
  
She looked at him shyly, with a small smile. The princes stopped laughing, gob smacked. For that, at least, Legolas was grateful.  
  
"You owe me a name," whispered Legolas in her ear, grabbing the chance while he could. For a moment, it seemed as though the maiden was going to continue to toy with him, but then her sister answered for her.  
  
"She is Aliela,"  
  
Interrupting the conversation, and stealing away all the attention – something Legolas was very grateful for - Thranduil stood up, calling for attention. He gave a loud cough, and silence fell over the assembled party.  
  
"Lord and ladies of Imladris and Mirkwood, it is time to announce the winners! Ennyntaur of Mirkwood, and Silmarien of Imladris, we declare you the champions!"  
  
Claps and cheers echoed loudly around the clearing, punctuated here and there by whistles. The pair, both unknown to the princes, stepped forwards to receive the amphora of Dorwinion wine, brought quickly from the palace by servants, laughing happily as they did so.  
  
"Very diplomatic," whispered Nilwethion to Legolas as they applauded. Legolas nodded with agreement. As soon as they chatter had risen, Legolas and Aliela found themselves alone. They sat down for a while, listening to the new music that was being played, and admiring the beautiful voice of the singer, but then, as the moon began to go down, out of sight of the clearing, Aliela decided that she needed rest, so they parted and she set off down the little path back to the halls with her sister. Legolas watched them go until they were out of sight, but then slipped off to  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N AI VALAR, THE FLUFF! THE FLUFF! Urgh, slushy romantic stuff! Don't worry; there will be little to no more of it this fic. I just couldn't resist embarrassing Legolas. Hehehe. Next chapter the fun really begins, with the start of the dares. I don't know what I'm going to do with Aliela; the fic was NOT supposed to be romance, and will have as little romance as possible in later chapters.  
  
DAW THE MINSTREL ~~ Yes, they are very entertaining aren't they? Their loyalty is important for future chapters / fics.  
  
RACHEL ~~ Has the sugar worn off yet? Eating that many biscuits in that amount of time was fairly stupid, even if it was a dare. Hey a plot bunny just ran past! Here, plot bunny, bunny, bunny . . .  
  
GREENLEAFGRL ~~ No it isn't a façade, they really are being smug. Glad you agree with me on the slash thing, there's so much of it about!  
  
FIREANGEL ~~ I guess you like it, huh? Everybody loves Calensil. She's going to end up taking over the part of main character if I'm not careful!  
  
ROGUE SOLUS ~~ Calensil HAS no match. She is unmatchable in any way. Unless you count Fireangel, but she isn't a character in the story.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ If you really did have children like these, I doubt you would want them. They keep Thranduil on the edge all the time, but I suppose Imlammthien does seem to get on very well with them.  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ You've read Déjà Vu? PLEASE don't start sending flamers about Aliela, and this goes to everybody else who has read it. She really is nice and sweet now. She's a whole different elf, I swear! Thank you SO much for making my day!  
  
**EMQU gives traditional choc 'n' cherry cookies to every one of her beloved reviewers** By the way, you do all LIKE the choc 'n' cherry cookies, right? If you don't, I can get you some other sort of cookies really easily.  
  
Now remember, click the little box, yup, that one in the corner of the screen. 


	5. I Dare You

Chapter 5 - I Dare You  
  
The five princes of Mirkwood were sat in a circle in Oroweth's bedroom with their little sister and the two sons of Elrond. Elladan sighed.  
  
"We have been waiting here for half an hour. Is it going to be much longer?"  
  
Nilwethion shrugged, knowing exactly what Elladan meant.  
  
"Shall I go and find him, Oroweth?"  
  
Oroweth nodded, grinning slyly.  
  
"It would probably be best, although I don't know if it will be possible to drag him away from his new lady friend,"  
  
The siblings sniggered as Nilwethion got up, grinning. The prince slipped out of the door, heading for where he suspected Legolas to have gone with Aliela. He was right. Legolas was far too obvious.  
  
"Legolas!" he called, "Have you forgotten your appointment?"  
  
Legolas and Aliela looked up, startled, from where they were sitting kissing. Nilwethion raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Or shall I say I could not find you?" he asked, a slow grin covering his face.  
  
Legolas and Aliela looked at each other, suddenly shy.  
  
"I do not wish to miss the game, but . . ." he looked at the smiling Aliela and bit his lip.  
  
"I understand," smirked Nilwethion, "I shall tell them you are . . .occupied. You can turn up when you feel like it. I shall see you two little lovebirds at breakfast, shall I not?"  
  
He backed out of the small grove quickly as Legolas looked around for something to throw, and then ran of laughing. He entered the palace again, slipping quietly back to Oroweth's room without being noticed.  
  
"So? Where is Legolas?" asked Calensil impatiently. Nilwethion carried on grinning.  
  
"He is, uh, unable to make an appearance," he sniggered, "They were sitting in the grove by the stream where all the couples of Mirkwood go. Ah, so romantic."  
  
The male elves all burst in to laughter, but Calensil sat quietly, jealous of this new Aliela girl. How dare she take her brother away?  
  
"We shall have to start without him then," grinned one of the twins. Calensil was not quite sure which it was, but then to her it did not really matter. The twins joined the circle.  
  
"It seems to us that this game is slightly unfair," commented the other twin, "There are six of you and only two of us, and you know the area for better than us,"  
  
Nilwethion and Thellind flicked a look at each other. These two were clever. Had Lin's ear been sewn back on yet? They certainly hoped so.  
  
"That is why we are instating a set of special rules, and why Calensil and Astaler are not partaking in the game," stated Oroweth, "We have made a promise to our parents to be on our best behaviour at all times . . ."  
  
"We had to do that!" The raven-haired twins grinned like maniacs, much to the surprise of the Mirkwood siblings.  
  
"You did? Well that's one of the rules. We cannot give any dares that can be easily discovered by our parents, understood? That includes no dares for dressing up in any way, no dares to say a particular line to anybody and no dares to do anything stupid in front of the court. Understood?"  
  
The assembled sons all nodded solemnly. Calensil was idly plaiting her hair. She knew the rules, after all. She had also decided not to take part, as it was much more fun to observe. Astaler also had opted not to take part, to make the rules easier for the others, and because he was bullied in to it by Calensil  
  
"Next, rules of play. We each have a number of the dice," he said, holding a small, white dice, most probably 'borrowed' from one of the guards or servants, "When you throw the dice, your dare goes to the person whose number shows. For instance, if I roll a three, and three is Nilwethion's number, I dare Nilwethion. The dares shall be already set to make sure that there is no favouritism or cheating. Astaler and Calensil will be watching to make sure we all play fair. As Legolas is not here, if he does ever arrive, he has to sit and watch."  
  
Around the circle, the sons of Thranduil who were taking part heaved a sigh of relief. It did not go unnoticed by the twins, who raised their eyebrows in a manner very similar to Elrond.  
  
"Are they all the rules?" asked the first twin, most likely Elladan, decided Calensil.  
  
"Yes, they are. Now for the numbering. You, Elrohir, will be number one," began Astaler. Calensil frowned. So it wasn't Elladan. How did Astaler tell them apart if she, Calensil, could not?  
  
"Elladan, you will be number two. Oroweth will be three, Nuryávië will be four, Thellind will be five and Nilwethion will be six. If you roll your own number, roll the dice again. If you roll for somebody who has already taken a dare roll again. There will be only one round. Elrohir, as number one, you will roll first."  
  
The Imladris elf picked up the dice, smirking. His brother, who was sitting next to him, however, seemed to be having a few doubts about the game. It was, however, too late to back out. The only way to avoid a dare was to refuse the one he was given, but he would not do that. That would be to loose face, and pride, to these princes. That was not an option.  
  
Elrohir rolled a three. Oroweth. He grinned, smugly.  
  
"I dare you, Oroweth, to slip salt in to your fathers wine when we go down for breakfast. Enough so it is un-drinkable. Then, to destroy evidence, you will drink the wine yourself."  
  
"How do I drink an undrinkable wine?" questioned the eldest son  
  
"With difficulty, I believe," smirked Elrohir  
  
Not too difficult, thought Oroweth as he nodded. It was not as if it had never done it before, though the consequences were . . .not nice. This time they would not be discovered.  
  
Next, it was Elladans' turn to roll. It was a one. He shrugged apologetically to his brother, and gave his dare.  
  
"I dare you, Elrohir, to steal our fathers silver circlet."  
  
Elrohir glared at his brother. To do that and not get caught would be difficult indeed, but the circlet could be replaced, and the one he was to steal, well, there could always be the suggestion that it was merely misplaced.  
  
"When do I steal it?" he asked  
  
"Tonight, when Adar takes it off,"  
  
Elrohir nodded, hoping his brother would have a very nasty dare, but not saying anything. Oroweth's roll next.  
  
"One," he said, and rolled again. This time it was a five. Thellind.  
  
"I dare you, Thellind," he began, and then paused, a wicked grin covering his features, "I dare you, Thellind, to go down to the bathing pool, and steal the clothes of at least one person who is swimming, and then to bring them back up here, unnoticed."  
  
Calensil and Astaler sniggered, loudly, happy that they did not have to do any dares. Thellind glared daggers at Oroweth. Oroweth seemed not to notice, too busy being praised by the others at coming up with such a nasty dare. He handed the dice to Nuryávië, who rolled a two.  
  
"I dare you, Elladan, to go for a week without carrying any weapon,"  
  
Elladan gasped, and Elrohir burst out laughing. He applauded the prince, but was then slapped on the shoulder by his brother.  
  
Growling, Elladan removed the long knife from his belt and handed it to his brother, and then removed two daggers from one of his boots, and also handed them to his brother. He glared at Nuryávië.  
  
The dice was passed on, and Thellind rolled a five, his own number. Rolling again, the dice showed two. He sighed, and rolled the dice again. This time it was a six, Nilwethion.  
  
"I dare you, Nilwethion, to go in to the forest tonight, and steal from the spiders a piece of their web."  
  
He sat back, smiling at his brother as his siblings gaped.  
  
"Thellind! Take that back! I have never heard you say anything more dangerous in your life! You could get him killed!"  
  
Thellind flicked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, watching his little brother shake slightly in his green tunic. The prince was staring at a spot in the middle of the circle.  
  
"I was under the impression that he can back down from the game, if he wishes," Thellind grinned, flicking back a few strands of long hair. He sat up strait, and then stared at his brother, waiting for the decision. Nilwethion looked up.  
  
"I will accept the dare," he said, proudly, also sitting up strait, from where he had been lounging happily. This was greeted by more gasps from the Mirkwood elves.  
  
"Nilwethion! Are you out of your mind?" gaped Astaler, "You have seen what the spiders can do!"  
  
"What can they do?" asked one of the twins. Clearly, they had never had any experience with the spiders.  
  
"They kill elves and eat them," said Thellind simply, "They will poison their victims, sending them in to a death like sleep, and then they will eat them."  
  
The twins blinked owlishly at him.  
  
"You are sending your brother in to the heart of their den? Do you wish for him to die?" breathed Elladan, his face as white as the silken sheets he slept in.  
  
"I do not wish him to die, however he seemed to think that he could easily carry out any dare I set him. We shall see how well he does with this," replied Thellind. He passed the dice on to his brother.  
  
"Your turn," muttered Calensil from where she was sitting on Nuryavie's knee.  
  
There was no real need for Nilwethion to roll the dice, as there was only one person left who could be dared. He rolled anyway, and it was five rolls until it landed on the one number left he could use. This dare, however, the players were all tense.  
  
"I dare you, Nuryávië, to eat no meat until the guests from Imladris leave in three months time,"  
  
This cheered the mood. It was not dangerous, nor stupid, just silly. Nuryávië, who loved eating meat, began growling in low tones about revenge. Everybody else just laughed. Calensil stood up.  
  
"Are you going to begin the dares then?" she asked sweetly. Eyes turned to Thellind. His was clearly to be carried out now. He sighed reluctantly and got up.  
  
"Will you come with me? I may need some extra arms carrying the clothes," he said. Astaler nodded and followed his little brother out of the room. As they exited the great halls by the servants' route, Thellind turned to his brother.  
  
"I wonder who will be there. I hope it is not old Silnan. He would report it strait to Adar, and then we will be roasted alive over a slow fire, or drowned in a cooking pot, maybe,"  
  
Astaler laughed, as they crept in to the bushed by the side of the pool.  
  
"It seems you are in luck, little brother," he whispered, "There are only two people in there, and I doubt they will go running to Adar or Elrond."  
  
"Who is it?" whispered Thellind back, rising above the 'little brother'. Astaler looked back at him, grinning wildly.  
  
"'Tis Legolas and his lovebird!"  
  
Thellind peeked through the branches and could barely hold his laughter. This was going to be so simple! He watched the couple splash about a little bit, playing catch in the water and kissing every so often.  
  
"They only met yesterday. They look as if they have known each other for a life time!" muttered the prince as he located their clothes, lying very close to them. He reached out and pulled one item of clothing in to the shrubbery where they were hiding, handing it to Astaler.  
  
"Jealous?"  
  
"I think not," growled Thellind. He did feel slightly jealous, however, as he watched the happy pair kissing in the middle of the water, and then ducking underneath the surface.  
  
Taking the opportunity he grabbed a large handful of the clothes and dragged them back, leaving only Aliela's cloak still not in his clutches. As the couple surfaced the two hidden brothers stayed stock still until they were sure neither of the elves splashing around in the water were paying attention, and then he grasped the cloak.  
  
Stifling sniggers, the two princes ran back to Oroweth's room where the others were waiting and dumped their prize on the floor.  
  
"Who was it?" cried Calensil.  
  
"Guess," sniggered Thellind. He held up an ornate leather belt with a fancy dagger sheath on it, silver ivy leaves entwined around the top and winding down the sides. There was only one sheath like it in the kingdom.  
  
"Not . . . not Legolas?"  
  
Thellind bowed gracefully to Nilwethion.  
  
"He was not the only one brother. Observe the pink dress,"  
  
"Ah, the two lovebirds?" guessed Elladan.  
  
"They didn't even realise we were there. Either we have become extremely quiet or they were very unobservant," laughed Astaler  
  
"Or perhaps they were being observant. Perhaps they were only observing each other," said Calensil. The males around her laughed, but did not notice she was being sour.  
  
"Perhaps, baby sister. Seven kisses, I counted, and they only met yesterday."  
  
The twins collapsed in to hysterics at the thought of the two finding their clothes gone, and the expressions on their faces. How long would they be stuck in the pool before somebody else came? Not too long, but long enough, hopefully.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In the pool, Legolas and Aliela did have eyes only for each other, as Calensil had guessed. They had been swimming for about two hours, uninterrupted, splashing and playing in the water.  
  
At last, Legolas look up at the sun to check the time.  
  
"'Tis breakfast time, I guess. We ought to be going before we are missed."  
  
He drew Aliela towards him for one last kiss, and then they swam to the side of the pool where they had left their belongings. Their clothes were no longer there.  
  
"Legolas, we did leave everything here, did we not?" questioned the elven maid, worried.  
  
"Aye, that we did. By the bushes. Why?"  
  
She turned to look at him.  
  
"They are no longer there!"  
  
Legolas looked, and indeed, there was no sign that there had ever been any clothes there at all. The prince gasped.  
  
"Ai Valar!" he moaned, "Our clothes!"  
  
Aliela slipped back in to the water, not wanting to get cold. She swam in to the centre of the pool.  
  
"How long until somebody comes?" she pleaded. Legolas shook his head.  
  
"Of that I have no notion. It could be minutes or it could be hours."  
  
They had no choice but to wait in the pool until somebody came. Suddenly they were in no mood for swimming and wanted nothing more than to get out of the pool, warm and relaxing as it was. Time passed slowly, until they heard giggling in the trees and voices approached.  
  
"He is such a wonderful dancer!" a female voice. Most likely one who had been at the feast the previous night, if dancing was the subject.  
  
"I do not doubt you loved the wine as well," another female.  
  
"Well of course. It was the Dorwinion stuff," the first voice again.  
  
"I wish I had won!" A third, younger voice piped up. Ah, so that's what they were talking about. The first speaker must be the one who had danced with Nilwethion at the feast, and these were her friends. The three women entered the pool and stopped as they saw Legolas and Aliela in the pool. Legolas' guess was correct. The three servants stood for a moment, and then smiled.  
  
"We are terribly sorry your majesty, my lady, we did not mean to intrude. Shall we come back later?"  
  
"No, wait a moment," cried Legolas as the three servants turned to go, giggling. They turned around again to look at the prince.  
  
"Uh, it seems our clothes have gone missing, my ladies. I don't suppose we could, uh, borrow your cloaks to get back to the halls could we?"  
  
The three maids began to laugh at the unfortunate couple. Two of them, the young one and Nilwethion's partner, Aelin, took off their cloaks to give to the two in the water, now at the side of the pool. As Aelin held hers out to Legolas, the last of the trio screamed, pointed to the other side of the pool and ran. Dropping their cloaks in surprise, the other two looked up as Legolas and Aliela turned around.  
  
At the other side of the pool was a small band of orcs, aiming their bows. Aelin and her young friends turned and ran, screaming, following their friends. Arrows thudded in to the trees and the surface of the water, the two maidens only just escaping the fatal shots.  
  
Trapped in the water, for they could not get out or they would be shot for sure, Legolas and Aliela ducked underneath the surface and held their breath for as long as they could, swimming to the bottom where the orcs could not see them. They were in trouble. Big trouble.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: I just have to point out that NOT ALL THE IDEAS FOR THE DARES WERE MINE. My point is made. One of my friends helped me, because I could only think of three or four.  
  
FIREANGEL ~~ I suppose your right, as always. Calensil WAS really mean, but admit it, she was funny. I'm glad you love the fic.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ We would all have joined in, most likely. It did sound fun though, didn't it? I don't think the end of this chapter was very fun for Legolas or Aliela though, somehow.  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ Thank you SO much for not flaming me, even though you know what she becomes when Legolas has to go.  
  
ASH ~~ You may have loved the end of THAT chapter, but do you love the end of THIS chapter?  
  
ORODRUIN ~~ Are you still sure you wanted to see the dares? Mind you, I suppose they do make up a large chunk of the story.  
  
**EMQU gives out choc 'n' cherry cookies to all her reviewers**  
  
Thanks for reviewing. Thanks very much. Thank you again. Love you all. 


	6. First Blood

Chapter 6 - First Blood  
  
Prince Oroweth of Mirkwood was sitting next to his father at breakfast, closely watched by seven other elves. He stared at one of the watchers, who happened to be his little brother, Nilwethion.  
  
"Oroweth?"  
  
The prince jumped, not expecting to be spoken to. Seven heads turned away and began chatting with the people sitting next to them.  
  
"Yes Adar?"  
  
"Why did not one of you come and sit by your mother and I yesterday in the feast? It was quite . . . unusual. You, Astaler and Nuryávië do usually," the king took a sip of his wine, watching his son carefully. Somehow he felt that not everything was quite right. Oroweth squirmed under the pressure of his fathers gaze.  
  
"Well Ada, we, uh, wanted to sit with Calensil, and Calensil was sitting with Legolas, Nilwethion and Thellind, and you know how they do not like sitting too close to you . . . it is a pure fact father. If we offended you in any way, we are extremely sorry,"  
  
The prince stared at the food in front of him, tearing the crust of the bread in to smaller and smaller pieces, almost without realising what he was doing. The king watched him curiously, and put down his goblet of wine.  
  
"Oroweth, are you ever going to eat that bread or shall you sit there picking at it all day? If you find the pass-time enjoyable I am sure we could find plenty of bread for you to pick at all day,"  
  
Oroweth gulped, noting the tone in Thranduil's voice, and rammed a small piece of the crust in to his mouth. He still managed to avoid eye contact with his father, and was grateful for it. Prince Oroweth was sure that if he looked up, his father would see strait through him, as always. That would be his dare ruined, and the twins would have won the game.  
  
King Thranduil raised an eyebrow at Oroweth's sudden change in behaviour. He was beginning to resemble his younger brothers, in a way. He sighed and shook his head. He turned around, signalling to a servant for more bread.  
  
As he turned away, Oroweth took his chance and tipped the small sachet of salt in to the wine. For a moment it swirled quickly like a snowstorm, but then the little white grains disappeared in to the drink.  
  
The prince sat back in his seat, and noticed again the seven pairs of eyes watching his oh-so-carefully. He winked at them. That was the first part of the task complete, and now for the second. That would have to wait, however, for the king to take more wine.  
  
Thranduil turned around, and noticed again the attitude change in his son, but this time decided to overlook it. He turned the talk instead to politics, and seemed to ignore the wine, much to Oroweth's displeasure.  
  
"My son, I have not yet spoken to you about the orcs,"  
  
Oroweth became confused. What orcs?  
  
"Adar?"  
  
The king rolled his eyes at the short memory his son seemed to have.  
  
"The orcs, Oroweth. The orcs you were sent after two weeks ago. Do not tell me you have forgotten!"  
  
The prince suddenly remembered and grinned apologetically. He took a sip of his own wine, hoping his father would imitate him without realising, as often happened among the guards. He was lucky. The king raised the goblet to his lips.  
  
"I am becoming impatient Oroweth. Will you tell me about the orcs or am I going to have to ask your brother?"  
  
It seemed that within the small gathering, for it was only the royal family and the main family of Imladris present, that the room held its breath and sat up. From the corner of his eye, Oroweth noted the look of glee on the face of Thellind and rolled his eyes at his brother. He turned back to the king and carried on the conversation as if nothing had happened and as if nothing was going to happen.  
  
"Well Adar, it was quite a large group, about two hundred of the foul creatures I believe we counted, and they were too well trained with their weapons for comfort. We . . ."  
  
But he was interrupted. Just as his Adar took a sip of the salted wine, three elven servants rushed in out of breath, one of whom Nilwethion recognised as his dance partner of the previous night. They gave a hurried curtsey as the face of the king turned purple at the taste of the mutilated wine.  
  
"Your majesty, there are orcs down by bathing pool!"  
  
"About thirty, your majesty, and they were all fully armed!"  
  
"WHAT?" screamed Thranduil, accidentally knocking over his goblet. Oroweth flashed a look at Astaler. Were these the same band that they had been sent to completely destroy? Astaler shrugged, looking worried.  
  
"Is anybody hurt? Is anybody still there?" asked the queen, interrupting her husband, keeping her head level. The worry showed through in her voice, for she cared very much for all her people, making her very popular. The three servants looked at each other, terror written all over their faces.  
  
"Your majesties," gulped one, "Prince Legolas is there with the Lady Aliela. We found them bathing in the pool, and none of us noticed the orcs, but then they began firing their arrows at us and they could not get out of the pool or they would have been shot for sure! It was all we could do to run your majesty! Had we been a second later we would be dead!"  
  
The three maids stood in the middle of the room shaking, and a tear fell from the eye of the youngest one.  
  
"Did you just say . . . did you just say that my son is stuck there?" tremored the king, "My SON?"  
  
"Yes, your majesty," whispered Aelin  
  
The kings' face turned white.  
  
"FOLLOW ME, NOW!" he barked, striding out of the room with his sons in wake, "IMLAMTHIEN! GO AND TELL SILNAN TO GET HIS GUARDS AND GET DOWN THERE BEFORE I GET R-E-A-L-L-Y ANGRY!"  
  
The second her husband had finished barking orders, Imlammthien ran out to find Silnan. It would not be difficult. He would, as usual, be in the guards' room. Most likely glaring at a group of unfortunate guards for playing cards.  
  
Elrond leaned over to Calensil who was sitting next to him, calmly eating.  
  
"If he is not 'r-e-a-l-l-y angry' now, princess, what is he?" question the ancient elf. Calensil shrugged, carefully buttering a white roll.  
  
"Mild," she commented, before turning her attention back to her food.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Thranduil and his sons raced down to the pool, swords and daggers ready for blood in their hands. There had been no time to fetch bows and arrows.  
  
Thellind slew the first orc, in the trees by the side of the pool. He slit the unsuspecting creatures throat, black blood pouring on to his hands.  
  
As they burst in to the clearing, the element of surprise was on their side. The orcs, although they were expecting elves to rush in at some point, had not expected resistance so soon, nor so angry. They were also too busy firing arrows both at the water and at a body, covered by a cloak, floating half submerged on the surface.  
  
As the royal family of Mirkwood relentlessly attacked the orcs, twenty more guards rushed in with the queen and their captain.  
  
The fight was over in a matter of minutes, the guards shooting down many of the disgusting creatures within seconds. They had, of course, had time to fetch their bows.  
  
As they were pushing the orcs back in to the woods, Astaler, whilst battling with an orc, began questioning it, as was his style. Most of the time, if you paid your attention to the fighting and not the questions you would keep concentration, but if you are the one answering, you almost always loose it, thus loosing your life.  
  
"Who have you killed?"  
  
The weapons clashed together.  
  
"Some rancid elf,"  
  
The orc ducked as Astalers' blade came down hard on its shield.  
  
"Male or female?"  
  
The orc brought up his sword in defence.  
  
"Covered by the cloak,"  
  
Again, Astaler came in on the attack.  
  
"So you couldn't tell?"  
  
The orc parried, and tried to make an attack, leaving its torso open. Astaler took the opportunity to stab the creature, blood pouring over him.  
  
"Oh well," he muttered. Turning around, he saw the last orc falling to his mothers hand and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Naneth? What are you doing here? 'Tis a battle scene!"  
  
The queen wiped the sword on her skirts and walked over to her second son.  
  
"I am aware of that. There are female guards and warriors, are there not?" she sheathed the sword, staring at the astounded prince.  
  
"Well yes, but you are the queen,"  
  
She raised an eyebrow, and then unsheathed the sword and grinned.  
  
"How did you think I met your father? Dancing, like your brother? I was a warrior before Oroweth came,"  
  
She turned away from her son, anguish taking over her expression as she saw the dead body on the water.  
  
The water was no longer the clear blue it had been only an hour before, but ridden with trails of blood, both red and black. Orcs and elves had both died today. Just because they had won did not mean there was no price. These orcs had been good fighters.  
  
The queen waded in to the water, blood staining her skirts. She stopped in the shallows, afraid of what she would see.  
  
Instead, Captain Silnan waded in to the pool from the other side, and then swam when it became to deep for him. Many of the elves on the banks turned their heads away, not wishing to see the captain reveal the morbid scene they were expecting.  
  
As the captain swam in to the centre of the pool where the body was, still covered by the cloak and resembling the queens' pincushion, the king grabbed one of the soldiers.  
  
"Go and find out how these . . . these creatures got this far in to my realm!" he hissed. The elf nodded and disappeared in to the woodland, taking another with him.  
  
By that time, Silnan had reached the corpse. Fearing what he might see, he plucked out as many of the arrows as he could and then finally drew the bloodied cape off the body. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: CLIFFIE!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! How COULD I leave it there? Am I not just the most evil creature ever? **Goes in to fit of hysterics**  
  
REVIEW REPLY THINGY  
  
DAW THE MINSTREL ~~ Your review made me laugh. Just the way you said it. Well, if they had clothes they might have had a chance to run away, but yes, I can see how much more they needed a weapon. Any weapon would have done.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ I hope you have a nice holiday. Oh you poor thing! You BROKE your BOW? **Sends waves of pity**  
  
DOT ~~ I suppose I should take that as a compliment, because it means my cookies are nice, but I'm not sure if it was meant that way or not. Calensil won't . . . **plot bunny runs past** **grabs pretty plot bunny** **rams plot bunny in cage and starts feeding it cookies 'n' lollypops** Calensil causing trouble for the lovebirds . . . **gives DOT big hug and an extra cookies for the plot bunny**  
  
ORODRUIN ~~ Thellind's' dare might have been a MEAN dare, but you have to admit, it is an extremely daring dare.  
  
LEGOLAS4ME ~~ What was that you were saying about cliffy's? **Enter manic laugh here**  
  
ORION ~~ I left it at a cliffy because, well, I'm evil. Such a cute couple aren't they? Back to the subject of cliffy's, what did you think of this one? ; p  
  
O.B.I.M ~~ I'm glad you like it  
  
Dragon Jewel ~~ There are still mistakes? **Hits head against wall repeatedly** Aw MAN! I've been through each chapter at least twice, and there are still MISTAKES?  
  
FIREFALL ~~ I guess 'impending doom' is about right. Not many grins or giggles this chapter I'm afraid though.  
  
FIREANGEL ~~ So you can smell the rocs too huh? Aren't they disgusting? I had to put a peg over my nose so I could write without falling unconscious due to the stink. The person who came up with those dares was indeed a most helpful and wonderful person, and I'm giving her and extra cookie for helping. ^_^  
  
NILMANDRA ~~ Actually, they didn't have anything on. Don't worry, they weren't actually DOING anything **wink wink nudge nudge** just splashing about and having a laugh. Your question will be answered in the next chapter.  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ You mean you like cliffy's? Hehe. Join the club.  
  
**EMAU and her muses hands out choc 'n' cherry cookies to everybody who reviewed**  
  
Love y'all. Yup, I even love you lurkers who are hiding out there, not leaving a review. I know you're there. 


	7. Bodies In The Water

Chapter 7 - Bodies In The Water  
  
"Who is it?" came the voice of the king from the bank. The tone of his voice suggested that he did not want to know. Silnan turned around in the water, dragging the cloak of the corpse in the water.  
  
"Nothing but an orc, sire!" Came the reply. The elves around the clearing breathed sighs of relief, apart from the five brothers, who began wading in to the water.  
  
Captain Silnan pushed the carcass of the orc, still studded with arrows, to the side of the pool. When he emerged he was drenched in blood, though most of it was not his own. In the water, elven blood had mixed with orc blood, creating swirls of black and red patterns, staining anybody who went in.  
  
Wading in to the deeper parts of the water, the princes continued looking for Legolas and Aliela, fear growing inside them with every submerged step they took. The king and queen joined them, and then Silnan and his guards waded in after them.  
  
"Where are they?" muttered Nilwethion, "Where are they? Legolas! Legolas! Little Greenleaf! Where are you?"  
  
As the bottom of the pool became to deep for him, he pushed off a muddy shelf in to the middle of the blood stained depths of the pool. As he did so, he felt a hand brush on his leg. He yelped loudly and looked down, but the masses of blood stopped his view.  
  
Taking a breath, Nilwethion ducked underneath the water to get a better view. The water that had been so clear earlier that you could see the bottom from the other side was now dark and misty, and Nilwethion could hardly see a foot in front of him. It was enough. Enough for him to see what he did not want to see.  
  
Floating face downwards was the body of an elf, an orc wrapped around it - most likely to stop it from reaching the surface. Legolas. A few feet away, much closer to the stirred up mud that represented the bottom, was another elf, but this time facing the surface. Her eyes were shut peacefully, radiating calm. Like Legolas, her hair was curling through the water in every direction, blending in with a water plant. Through her leg, a long arrow, finished with a black feather, protruded. The same kind that pinned Legolas' arm to the orc.  
  
The prince struggled to the surface and yelled, "They are here! Legolas and Aliela are here!" Before diving down again.  
  
From under the water, Nilwethion could just about see elves swimming towards the spot where he had surfaced. Within a matter of seconds a warrior of the royal guard joined him, letting out a gasp - or as close to a gasp as you can get under water - as she saw the bodies.  
  
Acting quickly, Nilwethion pointed Aliela out to the guard, and he grabbed hold of Legolas and the body of the orc, still wrapped deathlike around the prince, arrows binding them together.  
  
Fighting his way upwards, Nilwethion burst to the surface again, tasting blood as he opened his mouth to gasp for air. Next to him, the guard surfaced, holding Aliela. Many hands pulled them to the soft and welcoming earth, dragging them out of the water.  
  
The arrows were pulled out of the prince and the maiden quickly, and the orc hacked off from Legolas and thrown on to a pile with other dead beasts of its kind.  
  
Under the water, everything had seemed somehow calm and peaceful, but here chaos had grasped control. Legolas and Aliela had turned a shade of blue, glaring through the black and red blood and were lying deathly still. The queen began to cry hysterically as she grabbed the hand of her bloodstained son as blood from the water mixed with his own blood from his arm and shoulder as they continued to bleed.  
  
"Is he dead?" she managed, her voice horse. Nobody answered.  
  
"I asked if my son is dead! Answer me!" he voice became a scream, still clinging on to the limp hand of her youngest son. Silence fell, nobody wanting to answer the queen in her wrath. The lack of sound began to ring through ears, until it was broken by a cough.  
  
Aliela's body jerked, and she spluttered, water spilling from her mouth. Guards gathered around to help her sit up. Her spine curled and she began a coughing fit, gasping for breath through the chokes.  
  
As she sat up weakly, fits of coughing taking her over, Elrond entered the clearing, led by a worried warrior. Taking in the situation, Elrond strode across the clearing, picking his way over a few dead bodies of orcs, and around the dead bodies of elves.  
  
Kneeling down by the prince on the opposite side to the queen, who was still in hysterics, not taking in anything around her, Elrond put two fingers on Legolas' wrists, checking the pulse. Beside him Oroweth and Thellind knelt down.  
  
"Is he alive?" whispered the eldest, fearing the worse. Elrond looked at him gravely but did not answer. Instead, he began to pound down on Legolas' chest, trying desperately to bring him around. Behind him Aliela had been given a cloak and was crying, almost in the same state as the queen. Blood was still flowing from the leg where it had been pierced by the arrow, but she would not let anybody near it.  
  
At last, Elrond gave up hope on the prince and turned sadly to the king. Just as he opened his mouth, what could be counted as a miracle occurred.  
  
Prince Legolas heaved in a breath of air and began to choke as Aliela had done a few minutes ago. Unlike Aliela, his eyes stayed firmly shut, but at least he was alive. A smile curled on Elronds lips as he got up and stood back, letting the royal family gather round the prince. He carried on spluttering and coughing for what seemed like eternity until at last, the final cough left his mouth and he opened his eyes. Dazed, he tried to look around, but nothing was focused.  
  
He blinked slowly and then cracked open his lips.  
  
"What . . ." he began, but his mother laid a finger on his lips.  
  
"Shush Little Greenleaf," he crooned, "You are alright now. There is nothing to worry about."  
  
Legolas was not satisfied. He tried to raise his right arm, but cringed and gulped back a moan of pain.  
  
"My arm," he managed, "It hurts,"  
  
"Well little brother, it would do. Three arrows have after all, pierced it, and I am not quite sure what happened to your shoulder. It looks as if it has been bitten!" Astalers voice seemed confident, but relieved. At last Legolas managed to focus on the elf.  
  
"Arrows? Oh . . ."  
  
~~~Flashback~~~  
  
~~~ As the three maids ran away, a shower of arrows hit the water around the two elves trapped in the water. Wasting no time, they took a deep breath and dived as deep down as they could, far away from the splatter of arrows on the surface.  
  
Looking up, they could see the sun twinkling through the surface of the water as if teasing them. The surface was broken again by another volley of arrows, the odd spear blending in with them. An arrow hit Legolas in the arm before he could move out of the way, letting out a burst of blood.  
  
In his sudden an unexpected pain, Legolas opened his mouth in anguish, bubbles escaping and rising upwards, letting the orcs find their position as the pair tried to hide among the weeds.  
  
Another volley came, and one pierced Aliela in her thigh. Her eyes rolled in pain as she began bleeding and she fell unconscious, floating downwards.  
  
A pair of orcs dropped in to the water close by and began swimming towards the two trapped elves.  
  
The prince of Mirkwood had just enough time to be disgusted at the thought of the two disgusting, foul creatures the elven pool before he was attacked.  
  
The first orc, a better swimmer than the other, reach the prince first and raised his dagger - or attempted to. The years of training were not lost on Legolas, and reacting in a flash he grabbed the weapon and twisted it out of the grasp of the orc. Stabbing it in the neck, the first orc fell dead, a surprised look over his dumb features as his body floated to the surface, wrapped up in its cloak. As soon as the orcs on the surface saw it, they began aiming arrows at it, suspecting the body to be that of one of the elves.  
  
Before he had time to think, the second orc grabbed hold of Legolas from behind, unseen. Aliela had been left for dead, drifting by the weeds, unconscious.  
  
Legolas struggled, the dagger still in his hand, but the orc was too strong for him, and he desperately needed to breath. He opened his mouth again, and more bubbles of air escaped. The prince accidentally swallowed a mouthful of water mixed with blood, wriggling wildly in a vein attempted to escape the orc.  
  
As the prince tried to get free of his captor, an arrow ripped through the same arm and in to the orc. Now they were pinned together, working against each other. The blood ridden orc gained the upper hand again, using his weight to push the elf further down in the water, wrapping its other arm back around Legolas' chest, not letting the elf getting another chance of escape.  
  
As the elf thrashed about weakly, he lost grip on the dagger and it floated down, lost in the weeds and swirling mud and pebbles. The orc bit Legolas' shoulder, and the prince at last gave way to unconsciousness, unable to hold on through the mix of agony and need for oxygen.  
  
As he passed out, another two arrows came through the water. One hitting the orc through the eye, killing it instantly while the other went through Legolas' arm, pinning him more firmly to the orc. ~~~  
  
~~~End flashback~~~  
  
The youngest prince of Mirkwood winced in pain.  
  
"I remember," he croaked, "Where is Aliela? Is she alright?"  
  
Nilwethion grinned.  
  
"Don't worry little brother. Your little girlfriend is in a better state than you. No orcs have tried to eat her, as far as we can tell,"  
  
Again, Legolas winced.  
  
"Ow," he muttered, as his nerves began to work again. The pain from the shoulder and the arrows became, again, almost unbearable.  
  
"The pain will not be there long, prince Legolas," said Elrond from a few feet away, "The wounds ought not take long to heal. A couple of weeks at most."  
  
Legolas nodded and sat up, taking in everything around him.  
  
"For now, I think, your first priority ought to be finding some clothes," came the voice of Oroweth, from slightly behind the young prince.  
  
It was then, and only then, that Legolas realised he still was not wearing anything. Turning a very bright red, he grabbed the cloak from Thellind's shoulders and wrapped it around himself, burning up. He realised too late he should not have moved either of his arms so quickly, as the wounds complained loudly.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Wasn't I kind? I didn't leave a cliffy with this chapter! Respect and an extra cookie to everyone who guessed correctly that the body in the pool was an orc. Basically, that's ORION and DAW THE MINSTREL.  
  
~~~Review Thingy~~~  
  
DAW THE MISTREL ~~ I don't think that battle scenes are that intimidating. You just don't think too hard about them, and you try to give an overall image, not small details. Well Imlammthien wasn't going to be a warrior queen type character, but she told me what to write with a dagger at my neck daring me to write anything else about her. How could I write anything else?  
  
FIREANGEL ~~ Hehe, best reaction yet. If you want I've still got a couple of nose pegs here to block out the smell of the orcs, but they aren't going to feature for a little while yet.  
  
JUKIA ~~ the floor says hello back, and wishes you would pay it another visit soon. The floor is missing you.  
  
TECHNETIUM ~~ she isn't dead, and this little event is not going to stop any of the princes or the twins from acting like idiots. Sorry, um, being mischievous and adorable. **Cough**  
  
LADY V ~~ oh all right, I suppose I'll have to forgive you for not updating. If you do it again though, please will you give us a warning? Please? So how did the performances go?  
  
ORODRUIN ~~ Oroweth has not failed his dare, he completed it. The king did drink some of the salty wine, but he never got a chance to drink it. He might have to drink another goblet of salty wine though, just to complete it. Well the body could have been Aliela. At no point in this will I be killing Legolas. We have no right to change the writings of the great J.R.R.Tolkien.  
  
IZABELLE ~~ I guess that would make me a criminal then. Oh well, never mind.  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ not so much as WHO it was as WHAT it was. I don't think orcs count as people.  
  
ORION ~~ yes, the body in the pool is an orc. Very well done.  
  
O.B.I.M. ~~ I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. Please don't kill me. I didn't get the chance to update sooner. PLEASE don't kill me! Blood was shed by the way, it just wasn't mine. It was the orcs.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ I really pity you. No stories, no music and no bow? ARGH! Holiday from hell! I really, really do pity you.  
  
DOT ~~ sorry not much happened with the wine. I'll add something to that dare later. You will see an 'angry' Thranduil in the not very distant future, and you will probably wish you hadn't.  
  
GREENLEAFGRL ~~ It depends what you mean by badly wounded. They are both wounded though. I KNEW somebody would make reference to Déjà Vu. I knew it!  
  
Thanks to y'all for reviewing, those of you who did. Thanks to all you lurkers as well, who read this story but don't review. Just remember, my little lurking friends, you don't get the cookies. Only my little reviewing friends get those! HAHAHAHA! **Cough** yeah, well. Y'know.  
  
Please remember to click the nice little box in the bottom of the corner and leave me a lovely review. If you do, you get a choc 'n' cherry cookie like everyone else who has reviewed. Plot bunnies that are used and correct guesses at the next chapter get two cookies. ; P  
  
Lots of luv,  
  
==X=X==EMQU==X=X== 


	8. Threats From The Dark

CHAPTER 8 - Threats From The Dark  
  
Thellind and his brothers were walking back to the palace in silence, after hunting down any orcs that had fled the earlier skirmish. They had, apparently, infiltrated the Mirkwood defences by killing any guard they saw, before the guard saw them. How they had managed it, Thellind was unsure. The Mirkwood warriors were some of the best in Middle Earth, but yet they had not been fast enough to kill a gang of lowly orcs. There had to be something else that they could not see.  
  
He bit his lip, trying hard to concentrate on the problem. King Thranduil had sent them back to see Legolas and sent other scouts out. Thellind frowned. Most likely the king was worried about them, but they were old enough to look after themselves. It just wasn't fair!  
  
Whilst he was thinking, the image of Legolas lying unconscious by the pool, when he had been first dragged out, sprang in to his thoughts. The prince blanched, feeling guilty.  
  
"What is it little brother?"  
  
Thellind looked up to see Oroweth, cleaning his sword on his sleeve. Their ada would not be pleased, but he could wait.  
  
"I was thinking about Legolas," he muttered, "He could have been killed . . .and all because of me," his eyes strayed to the dark trees, and his slender fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword. Something was still not right.  
  
"'Twas not you who set the dare. I feel just as guilty as you do, or as I think you do, but how were we to know the foul orcs would attack?"  
  
"We did not know. Do you think Nilwethion will still go in to the forest tonight? Ought I take back the dare?"  
  
Oroweth nodded gravely.  
  
"The game has done enough damage. Tell him as soon as we get back to the . . . what was that?" his head snapped around as he heard a 'crack' from the forest. Fitting an arrow to his bow, he stared hard in to the blackness.  
  
"What was what?" asked Astaler, unsheathing his sword faster than a hungry hobbit could move. The other four elves also drew their weapons.  
  
"I am sure I heard something. Something that should not be there," muttered the eldest of the group. Focusing on a point, he aimed his arrow, and then let go of the string. From quite close by, the princes heard a squawk of pain.  
  
Exchanging looks, Oroweth and Astaler blended in with the undergrowth, making their way towards where the sound had come from. A few moments later they re-emerged.  
  
"It was an orc," said Astaler grimly, "I think he was following us. Look," he held up a thick, black arrow with "Mirkwood," scrawled on it in untidy elvish runes. At the point where the feathers were attached was the symbol of their house. Nilwethion gasped.  
  
"How did it get this close? It could have killed us - or at least one of us!"  
  
Oroweth shrugged, looking around at the forest surrounding them.  
  
"I do not know. We must ask adar as soon as he returns. Perhaps he knows something. Why else would he be so keen to send us back to the palace? Come on, we had better go. There may be others with their arrows trained on us."  
  
As soon as the words had left the princes' mouth, a black arrow, similar to the one that they had just found, thudded in to the Thellind's shoulder. The prince fell over from the force of the arrow, and then pulled it out, wincing.  
  
As he did, a thin black piece of parchment unrolled itself and dropped to the floor, which Nilwethion picked up.  
  
"It is written in the common letters, but the language is the dark speech. I cannot read it. I say we get back to the palace as quickly as we can, and then we can ask adar,"  
  
His brothers nodded and began walking back to the palace, much more quickly than they had been walking previously, and with their weapons out.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The princes were relieved when they were safely within the palace grounds again, but still on alert until they were right inside the stone halls. The first thing they noticed was the amount of warriors and guards scurrying about.  
  
"I say we go and see Legolas," whispered Thellind, as they stood aside to let a group of three female warriors pass, nodding at them.  
  
"I say we get you to a healer, you are still bleeding. That arrow may have been poisonous, and most likely was. Besides, what about Calensil?"  
  
"I am here," a little voice from behind them startled the princes. They looked around to see Calensil frowning at them from the shoulders of Elladan. Nuryávië raised an eyebrow, but kept his mouth shut. So Calensil and found new prey? He wondered if the twins were as taken with the little princes as all the elves of Mirkwood, or if they had just given her a piggyback because it was her realm . . .in a way.  
  
"Thellind! What happened?" she squealed, jumping down from Elladans back. The twins frowned as they, also, noticed the wound. Thellind shook his head, looking about at all the passing elves.  
  
"I got hit in the shoulder by an orc," he muttered faintly, not liking the attention.  
  
"You look pale," said Elrohir, "Was the arrow poisoned? We must find a healer. We could find my adar, if you like,"  
  
Thellind shook his head.  
  
"No, my shoulder does not need tending to. I doubt it was poison . . ."  
  
Which is when he collapsed.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Oroweth found himself holding the unconscious form of a sibling for the second time in a day. First it had been Legolas, on the side of the pool, and now it was Thellind. Who would it be next? Astaler? Nilwethion? Calensil? He shuddered at the very though of it.  
  
"Open the door Astaler," he said, as the small group arrived at one of the infirmary rooms. The one that Legolas and Aliela were in.  
  
Astaler opened the door, but just stood on the threshold and sighed. The reason soon became obvious,  
  
"Legolas, Aliela, will you ever leave each other alone?" cried Nilwethion, as soon as he saw what was happening. Legolas, who was perched on the edge of a bed, looked at his feet, his face bright red.  
  
"We were not doing anything," he muttered, taking hold of Aliela's hand. She smiled nervously and looked away.  
  
"Only kissing . . . again!" cried the older prince in mock despair, "Anyway, I hope there are more than two beds in here," he said, looking around.  
  
"Of course there are. Why?"  
  
Oroweth walked through the doorway, carrying the limp form of Thellind. Legolas and Aliela gasped, and the young prince ran over to the bed where Oroweth put him.  
  
"What happened?" he demanded, sitting down on the edge of the covers.  
  
"The orcs. They followed us until we were away from the main group and then shot him. There was a message on the arrow. Take a look, if you like."  
  
Astaler threw the piece of black parchment to Legolas, who looked at it but could not understand it. Aliela looked at the paper of his shoulder and covered her mouth. She grabbed the piece of paper and thrust it at the twins, who were sitting on the small table next to the bed. They reacted in a similar way.  
  
"What is it? Can you read it?" asked Nilwethion. Nuryávië disappeared out of the room to find a healer.  
  
"Yes we can read it, although I am not sure I want to," admitted Elladan, quiet for once, "Would you like to know what it says?"  
  
The royals looked at each other, then nodded.  
  
"Death to the house of Oropher," read Elrohir solemnly. He handed the note back to the shocked Oroweth.  
  
"They want you dead. All of you," said Aliela.  
  
Calensil began to cry loudly, and wrapped her arms around Legolas who lifted her up to comfort her. She carried on crying, making the only sound to break the stunned silence. The door banged open and Nuryávië hurried in with the healer. The stopped when they saw the faces of the assembled party.  
  
"Find Adar," commanded Astaler, "And find him NOW,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: I'm really sorry I didn't update last week, but I was swamped under with coursework and extra dance lessons. I just didn't get time. Besides, I had to re-write the chapter because I didn't like the first draught at all.  
  
~~Personal Review Thingy~~  
  
IMBEFANIEL~~ I hope you get over the writers block soon. I wasn't that lembas recipe!!!  
  
GREENLEAFGRL ~~ There are cookies this time. There are always cookies for reviewers.  
  
DAW THE MINSTREL ~~ I know, sorry. I'm not doing too well on the humour front. I should change 'humour' for 'angst' or 'action/adventure'  
  
DOT ~~ Hehe, you're cruel! Legolas doesn't learn lessons like that very quickly. Our little prince quite likes being in a dangerous position.  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ So glad you like it. Sorry I took so long to update.  
  
JUKIA ~~ they're glad they aren't dead too . . .  
  
FIREANGEL ~~ Actually, I think it was quite funny. How could I have killed off either of them so early on? How could I kill them at all, come to think of it?  
  
So yeah, thanks y'all for reviewing, or not reviewing, to you lurkers who I know are still there. Everyone has a coupla lurkers, and one day I will find you all. I've got y'all cookies, as usual, my wonderful muses are handing them out.  
  
Lots of luv,  
  
==X=X==EMQU==X=X== 


	9. But Adar, I Don't Like Meat

CHAPTER 9 - But Adar, I Don't Like Meat  
  
Nuryávië shook his head, confused.  
  
"But Oroweth, I still do not quite understand why you stopped the healer finding Adar. He ought to know about the arrow,"  
  
They had gathered around Legolas' bed, Thellind still unconscious in the bed opposite. Nuryávië glanced quickly at him and bit his lip, but turned back to Oroweth.  
  
"He and Naneth have enough to worry about already. There is no need to add more to their stress. It would be best to keep the threats among ourselves," Oroweth did not sound sure, and his voice was shaking slightly, still in shock. He wrapped his arms around Calensil, as she looked up at him with big, baby like eyes.  
  
The door opened and an elven maid poked her head around the door, fixing her gaze on the small gathering.  
  
"The king has returned, my lords . . . and lady. He wishes you to attend dinner," she bobbed a curtsey and stood in the door, waiting for them.  
  
"Are you ready to come down yet Legolas?" asked Nilwethion  
  
Legolas nodded and glared at him, as if annoyed at even the question being asked. Of course he was fine! A little orc bite never hurt anyone . . .well it did, if it was deep enough, but that was not the point. The point was if he had to stay in bed for much longer he would die of boredom. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and quickly dressed, then trailed off down to the private dinner table.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The evening meal was quiet and subdued. Each time the queen attempted to make polite conversation, she felt uncomfortable about the lack of voices around her, and gave up trying to speak. The princes and the twins did not want to speak because they were worrying about Thellind and the death threats. Calensil was silent because she, like her mother, did not want to disturb the tense feeling. The Imladris lord and lady did not need to speak to each other to communicate and the king was going over the day's events in his mind. At last he looked up.  
  
"Nuryávië?"  
  
"Yes Adar?"  
  
The king frowned.  
  
"Are you not hungry?"  
  
Nuryávië shifted as he felt the frown of the king and the smirks of his brothers and sister and the blank stares from the Imladris twins.  
  
"I am quite hungry Adar," he tore a piece of crust from the bread on his plate and stuffed it in to his mouth, just to show willing.  
  
"Then why have you eaten no meat?" the king raised his goblet of wine to his lips  
  
"I am vegetarian Adar,"  
  
The king choked and spluttered in shock, and the queen's fork stopped half way to her mouth, her mouth hanging open in dumb shock.  
  
"I . . . I am not sure I quite understood you. I think I must have heard you incorrectly. Did you just say . . . vegetarian?"  
  
"Yes Adar," the prince looked at Nilwethion who was sitting opposite him. Nilwethion winked and grinned as their father turned purple, his eyes bulging. The queen put her hand on her husbands arm, attempting to cool him down, even though she was also in shock.  
  
"Nuryávië dear, perhaps you could tell us why you are . . ."  
  
"Vegetarian?" the prince ventured  
  
Imlammthien nodded and raised a handkerchief to her mouth, hiding her expression.  
  
"I believe it is immoral to eat dead animals. They give up their whole lives, taken by force, and we eat them. By the next day they are forgotten, replaced with another unfortunate creature. Can you imagine how many lives we take each year? Each week? Just because we enjoy the taste of their flesh?" All the time he had kept his eyes fixed firmly on his younger brother, but now he turned his eyes to the king. The shade of purple had deepened, and Thranduil looked as though he was about to burst a blood vessel. The queen on the other hand was looking thoughtful, and lowered the handkerchief. She pushed away the plate of meat in front of her.  
  
"I have suddenly lost my appetite for meat," she muttered. A small, helpless sound left the kings lips.  
  
"You mean . . .you are telling me . . .you have joined your son in this . . .this . . .madness?"  
  
The queen nodded and wrinkled her nose. Nilwethion raised his eyebrow.  
  
"That was unexpected," he whispered to Legolas, who was sitting next to him. Legolas, who was still unaware of all the dares, whispered back; "Is he being serious?"  
  
Nilwethion shook his head.  
  
"It was one of the dares," he muttered, "But this was not supposed to happen."  
  
They looked at Nuryávië and smirked at him. In return the older elf glared back. Calensil giggled.  
  
"If Nana thinks eating meat is wrong, then I refuse to touch it," she declared. It was now her turn to be stared at.  
  
"Calensil . . ." began Oroweth  
  
"No," she sniffed, "Do not tell me to do anything. If you make me eat it I will hate you for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever," she pushed her plate as far away from her place as she could, which was not very far at all as her arms were so short. Oroweth shut his mouth and shrugged.  
  
"Adar?" asked Legolas gently. There was no reply.  
  
"Adar?"  
  
He looked down the table at the king and almost sniggered. It seemed as if he had frozen.  
  
"Adar!"  
  
At last, a small, helpless sound, as you would expect to hear from a frightened child, radiated from the king. Legolas and Nilwethion sniggered.  
  
"Adar, may we be excused please? We wish to check on Thellind,"  
  
The small, frightened sound coming from the king was not clear.  
  
"Naneth, was that a yes or a no from Adar?" asked Calensil brightly, loving the attention.  
  
"I think it was a yes," smiled the queen, "Off you go,"  
  
Within a few moments, the king and queen of Mirkwood were left alone with the lord and lady of Imladris. For want of something to say, Queen Imlammthien turned to her friend.  
  
"So, Celebrian my dear, how do you like Mirkwood so far?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Nuryávië! You sounded as if you believed what you were saying!"  
  
Nuryávië found himself being applauded and bowed.  
  
"I had been thinking about what to say when Ada asked me about it. Did you see his face?"  
  
"How could we miss it?" burst Legolas, laughing loudly, clutching at his sides, "It was as bright as a beacon!"  
  
They fell about in hysterics, and at last Legolas stopped laughing enough to turn to Calensil and ask; "Did you mean what you said about joining Nana and Nuryávië?"  
  
She nodded, unable to speak through her mirth.  
  
"I was half expecting our Naneth to push away her plate as well," admitted Elrohir, sitting on a table with his feet dangling over the side. His twin was lounging next to him.  
  
"I wish Arwen was here to see this!" grinned Elladan, "The way you play Dares is hilarious!"  
  
"Whilst we're on the subject of Dares," began Nilwethion, sitting up, becoming serious once more, "Has the sun gone don yet? I have to go and get the piece of spider web,"  
  
Instantly, the others because serious as well.  
  
"Little brother, Thellind took the dare back when we were walking back through the forest," said Oroweth. Nilwethion shrugged.  
  
"He did not tell me, so it still stands. You know the rules of the game as well as any of us,"  
  
"See sense Nilwethion!" cried Elladan, "Do you want yourself to be killed?"  
  
Again, the young prince shrugged as if he did not care.  
  
"Not really, but a dare is a dare. I am not going to let you beat us,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ glad you found it funny. I'll have to go and check out that chapter of yours.  
  
GREENLEAFGRL ~~ I'm not quite sure about the answer to that question. I haven't really given it much though. I think something is going to happen later, but not much more than a side-romance in this fic. They might get married, they might not.  
  
DOT ~~ I was never really away. Legolas is a slow learner in that respect. Thellind will recover in time; I'm going to wake him up in the next chapter, just after Nilwethion goes off looking for a spider web. Oops, I just said too much. LEXIE ~~ glad you like the story.  
  
FIREANGEL ~~ don't worry; I'm not going to kill any of the princes, or the twins. As I said to DOT, Thellind is going to be fine.  
  
O.B.I.M. ~~ wow, that was a short review!  
  
A/N: **gives out choc 'n' cherry cookies to all beloved reviewers** 


	10. Spider Web

CHAPTER 10 - Spider Web  
  
Queen Imlammthien and Lady Celebrian were walking slowly through the gardens of Mirkwood, taking in the late evening sky and scents from the flowers, unaware their sons were in the middle of a very dangerous game, currently sneaking out of the grounds, very close by. Had they listened carefully, they would have heard the whispered conversation, but as it happened they were not paying attention. Instead, Celebrian had found something to talk about.  
  
"Imlammthien darling, I do suppose you are going to tell them soon," she ventured, as she knelt down by a particularly sweet smelling rose. Imlammthien looked puzzled.  
  
"Dear Celebrian, what are you talking about?"  
  
In the bushes, Elladan rolled his eyes at Nilwethion.  
  
"The way they talk you would think they were sisters," he whispered, so low only the three elves around him could hear. It was all Thellind could do to keep his face strait.  
  
By the rose bush, Celebrian stood up and the pair carried on walking painfully slow. Too slow for their four sons in the shrubbery, having to wait for them to disappear if they had any hope of not being caught.  
  
"It has come to my attention that the size of your stomach is slightly larger than that of the average elven maid. As many here eat exactly the same food as you, or more than, considering today's events, which, may I add, is very brave of you," here both ladies smiled, remembering the face of the king, "So I doubt very much that is has anything to do with overeating."  
  
The lady of Imladris raised a pretty eyebrow at her friend who was now struggling to keep her emotions strait.  
  
"Perhaps we could sit down?" she suggested after it was clear there would be no answer.  
  
In the bushes, the four elven youths winced. This was going to take much longer than they had first though.  
  
"I hope they are not there for long," whispered Elrohir, "I fear there is no chance of me sitting still for much longer at all. I need to move!"  
  
"We all do," muttered Nilwethion, "I want to get this over and done with,"  
  
By this time, the two elven women had just sat down on the beautifully carved oak bench. On the bench were carved various polished small woodland animals. A couple of birds along the back, two squirrels chasing each other on one of the legs, a mouse on the arm and . . . a small spider weaving its web. That one seemed to be moving. In fact, it was. Imlammthien sighed and picked it up gently, and then moved it to a waiting flower. She sat down again, and turned to her friend.  
  
"So Celebrian my dear, what is it we were talking about?"  
  
"Your baby, I believe," smiled the Lady of Imladris. Imlammthien froze for a few moments and then suddenly seemed to find an unforgivable fold in her lavender blue dress. She began to smooth it, as if paying no attention, running her fingers lightly over the delicate embroidery. She sighed and looked back at Celebrian, clutching the fabric of her long dress as if it were a elflings comfort blanket, like the one Oroweth once owned, but now refused to admit had ever existed.  
  
"What does she mean?" whispered Nilwethion, "Calensil is the baby of the family, though she can no longer be counted as a baby, but a small child. There is no other."  
  
Beside him, a look flashed across Thellind's face, though the twins, who were watching carefully, could not tell what the emotion was. Was it happiness or panic? Or perhaps fear or pride? They shrugged it off.  
  
"I think, little brother," whispered the prince carefully, "That they might mean something else. Shush, I am trying to listen,"  
  
The four elven heads turned back to eavesdropping on their unknowing mothers.  
  
"Celebrian my dear, has anybody else noticed?" the tone of the queens voice suggested that she was worried, radiating through the level ness of it.  
  
"I do not think so darling. Not that I am aware of,"  
  
The queen gave a sigh of relief and let go of the dress, not realising how hard she had been clutching it. She smoothed the crumpled fabric, her eyes flitting around the gardens, as if to check for intruders. The four sons in the shrubbery froze, not daring to breath.  
  
"So, is it a girl or a boy?" asked Celebrian, a cheeky smile on her face reminding Thellind and Nilwethion of the identical grin the twins so often had plastered on their faces.  
  
"I am fairly sure it is a girl. Calensil will be delighted, as am I. Come to that, so will my sons. They are besotted with Calensil, and I am sure they will love this little one just as much. Eight children!" the queen began to giggle.  
  
At last the light dawned over Nilwethion as he realised what his mother was talking about. His mouth fell open and he suddenly seemed to loose his voice.  
  
"What will you call her?" it seemed that Celebrian was full of questions about the unborn child, and now the truth had come out, Imlammthien was ready to answer them all. The queen smiled gently.  
  
"I will call her Hollinethir. You know what that means, of course,"  
  
"Holly spy? Why are you calling your child holly spy?"  
  
"Why don't you tell her, Thellind? Also, whoever else is in there can come out. I know there are two of you hiding by that holly bush,"  
  
After a moment of shock, Thellind stood up, staring at the ground by Imlammthien's feet. He kicked Elladan in the ribs, gently, but hard enough to make the elf get up. He knew how to take a hint.  
  
"Is anybody else in there dear?" asked the queen. Thellind and Elladan shook their heads quickly.  
  
"No Naneth," the muttered, one after the other.  
  
"Well, are you going to come over here or are we going to have to come over and drag you away from that holly bush, after which your sister is to be named?"  
  
The two elves quickly stepped carefully over the plants, avoiding the prickly leaves dropped by the holly tree, and wandered over to the queen and the lady of Imladris. The two women stood up and eyed their sons. After a moment, Imlammthien plucked a holly leaf from her sons' hair and smiled. She then, suddenly, slapped the side of his head. Celebrian just stared at her son silently with hard eyes, making him blush and fidget.  
  
"Thellind Thranduilion! You know better than to go sneaking around like a low and vulgar spy! Do not ever let me catch you doing that again! You even dragged another along with you! Did you want him to get in to trouble as well? How dare you?"  
  
Thellind looked at the ground miserably with his hands behind his back. He signalled to the two in the bushes to go as the queen continued to lecture him about spying. Nilwethion and Elrohir took the hint and left as silently as possible, leaving their unfortunate brothers to a severe telling off.  
  
The two elves moved like shadows, ducking swiftly and silently behind trees and disappearing in to the night. At last, when they were far away from the dwelling place of the king, the two stopped and began laughing with silent mirth. Although they were well away from the palace and the danger of their angry mothers, and possibly fathers later on, there was still a more deadly threat from the trees. Spiders, wolves, wargs, now orcs and many more besides.  
  
"I have no wish to be in brothers shoes now," sniggered Thellind.  
  
"This is the only time in my life I will be glad to be away from Elladan," agreed Elrohir, then he stopped laughing and looked around. "'Tis very strange without him here. As if half of me is missing," he shuddered and flicked his black hair behind his shoulder.  
  
"Come, we had better be going. We want to get this over and done with before the spiders become over active, and before we are missed," whispered Thellind, dropping his voice again to as low as he had been forced to speak when they were by the holly bush.  
  
Again, the pair moved off in to the deadly silence of the trees, creeping towards the closest spider den. Their hearts began to beat faster and faster as they realised how much danger they were in, and as they realised how alone they were. From the depths of the woods a bird screeched, making them jump. Elrohir grabbed Nilwethion's arm in shock.  
  
"Ow, that hurts," whispered the prince. Elrohir let go, aware of what he had done.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered back, "I am not used to being alone,"  
  
"You are not alone," came the almost silent reply  
  
"I meant without Elladan," hissed the Imladris elf. The bird screeched again, but this time it was closer. Perhaps it was another bird. Something scuttled along the floor in front of them, making the lonely twin jump again.  
  
"Just a squirrel," he heard the prince mutter, although the prince sounded scared himself.  
  
The pair crept on, slipping on through the trees, until Elrohir suddenly lost sight of Nilwethion. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared around, peering in to the gloom. His blood raced and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. The elf wiped it away quickly with his sleeve and drew his dagger. It should already have been drawn.  
  
"Nilwethion?" he hissed, "Nilwethion!"  
  
In an instant, the prince was by his side as if he had been there all along.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I lost sight of you,"  
  
There was a moment's silence, and then the leaves of the trees began rustling as if there was a breeze, only there is no wind in forests. The two elves tensed, but nothing happened.  
  
"Take my hand," whispered Nilwethion, "Or most likely we will loose each other. I can see better than you in this darkness, but the trees would block my view," it was true. Nilwethion had spent more time creeping about after nightfall in the terrifying blackness, although usually it was much closer to the elven stronghold. By now the prince knew the way by feel and could have walked the forest with his eyes closed, but he did not want to loose their guest who was so unused to the conditions. The two elves found each other's hands and began stalking off again, daggers at the ready. Again the unseen bird screeched, making them jump. This time it was answered by another, and then another.  
  
As they walked on, the forest became darker and darker and the sounds around them became, while no less scary, a little more reassuring. It seemed many of the creatures were not interested in the two elves, or knew better than to try to hurt them. The birds, for instance, were too small to make much of a difference to the pair. They were far more interested in easy prey, like the mice or the black squirrels.  
  
"I miss Elladan," whispered Elrohir, after the terrified pair had heard a wolf howling, and then the squeals and squeaks of some small, unfortunate animal the wolf pack - wolfs never hunted alone - had labelled "dinner". Nilwethion felt the elven twin's grip on his hand tighten.  
  
"Elladan is fine," he whispered back, "Now stop worrying!"  
  
In the gloom, Elrohir nodded unhappily.  
  
"I'm sorry,"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I keep saying that,"  
  
The prince of Mirkwood sighed. He was glad he didn't have a twin. Were all twins this bad when they were separated? How must Elladan be reacting? On reflection, it was probably a good thing he had been dragged back to the palace by his Naneth. After all, he had no weapons, due to his own dare. When had the dares been placed? Was it yesterday? Or was it only this morning? Everything had suddenly started happening so quickly as soon as the guests from Imladris had arrived.  
  
He sighed and tugged at the elf's hand.  
  
"Come on, we can not waste any more time,"  
  
He tugged on Elrohir's hand again, but the elf was frozen in place. He began whimpering.  
  
"What? Oh . . ."  
  
Surrounding the unfortunate and petrified pair was the pack of wolves. It seemed that whatever unfortunate creature they had just eaten was not enough to satisfy them. Two elves, it seemed, would. Two elves would probably satisfy them for a week.  
  
The two elves in question, however, were not prepared to go down without a fight. In the intimidating gloom of the trees, two daggers flashed dangerously as the elves moved themselves around so they were back to back.  
  
The first wolf pounced with an evil snarl, but was cut down quickly with a swipe from Nilwethion's sharp dagger. The wolves began circling the youths bearing their fangs and leering at them with ugly, yellow eyes. They seemed to be saying, "we will kill you, and we will feast upon your flesh."  
  
"Elrohir?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"If we are going to last much longer, you are going to have to let go of my hand,"  
  
"Yes Nilwethion,"  
  
"Elrohir?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You are still holding my hand,"  
  
"You are still holding mine,"  
  
"Oh,"  
  
Another wolf dived, knocking them both to the ground. Elrohir stabbed it through the neck, but more wolves had already leapt forward and he could not escape from under the new corpse. Nilwethion jumped up and whirled his blade, slicing away at the wolves flesh, killing four more. The wolves fell back and began circling again. This time their mouths were stained with blood of their own kind, and of elven kind. Now they could taste it, they were not about to let their prey get away. Nilwethion grabbed Elrohir with his freehand and dragged him out from under the dead wolf.  
  
"I thought I was about to get my throat ripped out," he whispered gratefully, his eyes flicking from one wolf to the next.  
  
"You still might,"  
  
The prince bit his lip, almost unaware that he was doing so. As the wolves circled him, he bit down with more pressure, becoming more and more scared. Suddenly he felt the cold, metallic taste of blood in his mouth. His own blood. Nilwethion winced as he realised he had bitten through his lip unintentionally. Almost without realising he had done so.  
  
One of the wolves howled loudly, standing up on its back legs, it's fur prickling. Others joined it, almost deafening the two elves with their over sensitive ears. In the distance, and from not so far away, answering howls broke through the night, infiltrating the every nook and cranny in the forest.  
  
The wolf that had begun the howling thudded down on to the ground again, its teeth bared, and the pack, as one, advanced slowly on the pair, tightening the circle and completely trapping them. Nilwethion heard his petrified friend whispering prayers to the Valar. He tightened his grip on his dagger resolutely.  
  
"Elrohir, on the count of three bolt right and slice your dagger through that wolfs neck. Do not run through the forest or they will catch you and rip your throat out. You see that tree? We are going to climb up it as high as we can. Wolves can not climb trees. Understand?"  
  
Elrohir nodded.  
  
"1, 2, 3, NOW!"  
  
The elves dived at the wolves, fighting for their lives. Killing three almost instantly the pair bolted to the tree and swung themselves up it in to the high branches, the wolves below them howling angrily and snapping at their heals, tearing at the bark with their claws in madness at letting their prey escape.  
  
"Nilwethion? Are you alright?" panted Elrohir, brushing his hair out of his eyes. The hair refused to be brushed away, and fell back in front of the worried elf's face.  
  
Nilwethion had his teeth clenched in pain, his eyes screwed shut and his hands clasped around his ankle.  
  
"No, one got me," he moaned. The pair no longer had any need to keep their voices low. The prince let out a frustrated growl of pain as the blood poured from his ankle, seeping through his hands and dropping in to the waiting mouths of the hungry wolves below.  
  
"Look at them, squabbling over getting a taste of my blood!" he cried, "Argh, it hurts so much!"  
  
The pain was, indeed, almost more than the prince could bear. He moaned again and his eyes unfocused, threatening to loose consciousness. Elrohir just sat and watched, unable to move, his fear catching up with him. All he could think was 'I need Elladan, where is Elladan? I need Elladan. Please Elladan, help us.'  
  
Below them, the wolves had begun to feast upon the dead bodies of their own kind, leaving four sitting at the bottom of the tree, staring up greedily at the two elves, snapping their jaws as if teasing them. Elrohir shook his head, trying to clear his mind of all thoughts of his twin. They were desperate, and freezing up was not going to help the situation.  
  
"Think Elrohir, think!" he whispered. Beside him on the branch Nilwethion moaned in pain again, his hands and leggings stained with blood. Remembering the lessons his ada had given him in Imladris, Elrohir ripped his tunic and wrapped it around the princes wound, attempting to stop the blood flow. If he did not stop bleeding soon, the prince would be unconscious, possibly dead, in a matter of minutes. No, he was over reacting.  
  
"I have been in worse situations than this and survived," he muttered to himself, forgetting Nilwethion could hear, "And I will not become dinner for a pack of hungry cannibals!"  
  
"That's the spirit," whispered Nilwethion. He had not meant to whisper, but his strength was rapidly vanishing, as the pain did not die down. He cried out as Elrohir's hand clipped the wound, making it sting with impossible pain. The prince blacked out leaving Elrohir alone.  
  
"Nilwethion? Nilwethion?"  
  
In the pitch blackness the terrified elf couldn't think. Below him the wolves were still snarling and growling and howling. More were gathering, presumably they knew when the other wolves howled. A dry sob escaped his throat and he froze, his eyes locking with those of one of the wolves.  
  
As he stared at the wolf, and the hungry wolf stared back at him, Elrohir let go of Nilwethion's limp body, as if being controlled by the silver hound at the bottom of the tree, it's knife like claws hooked in to the ancient bark of the tree. Nilwethion slide from the branch and fell. The wolf threw back its head, its mouth open and waiting for the elf to fall right in, but the only thing to hit the wolfs mouth was another drop of sweet blood. The wolf looked up again in confusion, and found the answer.  
  
Nilwethion had been caught in a spider web, recently woven on the tree. The long sticky silver strands that had been woven so carefully were hanging on to Nilwethion, unwilling to let the newly trapped, helpless creature be eaten by some other animal. The wolf howled angrily, and then stopped and whimpered.  
  
Suddenly, unexpectedly, the wolf tucked its tail between its legs and ran from the clearing like a scolded dog. The other wolves looked up to see why it had run, and then within a matter of seconds they had all fled howling in to the black night, leaving the half eaten carcasses of their kin lying on the floor.  
  
Elrohir breathed a sigh of relief and began to scramble down the tree, taking care not to be caught in the web like Nilwethion, when he heard a strange clicking sound. Dreading what he was going to see, Elrohir turned his head and saw, not three feet away, a gigantic, black, hairy, Mirkwood spider.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: HA! Cliffy time again, methinks. **Smirk**  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
LEXIE ~~ I am so sorry I forgot to answer your reviews last time. Please forgive me **if you're still reading this).  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ glad I brightened your day. Homework should be illegal.  
  
ICED ~~ the rest of the spider web is in the next chapter. Somehow I think that Elrohir and Nilwethion (when he comes around) are going to have their work cut out.  
  
JUKIA ~~ **snigger** Hehe. There was me thinking Gollum was hooked on fish.  
  
DAW THE MINSTREL ~~ to be fair, their Adar's are trying to be firmer with them, it just isn't working. At all.  
  
DOT ~~ I might make one of the dares to go as planned, but then again, I probably won't. This one has certainly gone wrong. It will continue to go wrong for a while. If only they had fixed Lin's ear.  
  
ELFAER GILLIEL ~~ **mutters darkly about people missing chapters** well, I suppose the complement makes it better. **Suffers from girly attitude problem, please ignore** 


	11. Trapped

CHAPTER 11 - Trapped  
  
Thellind lying on his large bed staring at the ceiling almost out of his mind with worry. It was almost dawn and there had been no sign of either Nilwethion or Elrohir. The again, he was locked in his room as punishment for 'spying' blocked out from the rest of the world. After being dragged back to the palace by his naneth, his father had given him a very stern reprimand using volumes his sensitive ears were very uncomfortable with, then given a tongue lashing by Silnan as he was marched to his room. At least his brothers had not said anything, though Calensil had glared at him for being caught and Oroweth, Astaler and Nuryávië had rolled their eyes at him for being so careless. He groaned and rolled over. Unfortunately, he had already been lying on the bed. He fell off the edge with a dull thud as he landed on the floor.  
  
A snigger came from the window, accompanied by another. He looked up dully and then grinned as he saw his little brother clambering through his window followed by Elladan. Soon all his brothers were there, silently assembling themselves.  
  
"Where is Calensil?" asked the prince when it was clear there were no others coming.  
  
"Fast asleep. The Valar could not wake her," replied Astaler with a smile, "She was so sweet I could not bring myself to wake her,"  
  
"Ssh!" hissed Thellind, "Naneth was so angry she commanded Silnan to post two guards outside the door and below the window,"  
  
"We did not notice them,"  
  
"We climbed down from your room, my brother," whispered Legolas with a smirk. Astaler also grinned. It was indeed an advantage, having your parents think that you would never dream of breaking rules.  
  
"We brought you something to eat," said Oroweth, throwing a small bag at Thellind. The prince caught it and sat down in his window seat. The bag contained a bread roll, an apple and a fruit pasty that was still warm. He gratefully sunk his teeth in to the bread, muttering thanks.  
  
"How did you get out?" Thellind asked Elladan curiously. The elf of Imladris was, as always, sitting on a desk. His legs were swinging gently. His eyes seemed to be not completely focused and he did not answer.  
  
"Elladan?"  
  
The use of his name brought the elf back and he shook himself.  
  
"Legolas came to help me climb up the ivy outside my window in to his room. Everybody else believes me to be Elrohir."  
  
Thellind nodded. It sounded very much like something Legolas would do.  
  
"I doubt you are here on a passing visit," he said, swallowing the last of the bread roll.  
  
Oroweth raised an eyebrow, "We love you too," he said.  
  
"Sarcasm Oroweth? You have been spending far too much time around our father and Silnan," smiled Legolas from where he now lounged on the bed. Oroweth glared at his youngest brother.  
  
"Actually we were here because of Nilwethion and Elrohir," piped up Nuryávië.  
  
"Is there any news of them?" questioned Thellind eagerly, fruit pasty instantly forgotten. The prince had been itching all night to hear from them, but as yet had heard nothing. Something in his gut had told him that something was wrong, but he had done his level best to ignore it. A cloud crossed his brother's face.  
  
"Actually, we were hoping you could tell us," he said, "Elladan thinks there is something wrong,"  
  
"I know there is something wrong," moaned Elladan, mindlessly curling a lock of hair through his fingers, "I do not think it, I know it!"  
  
"Keep it down," muttered Thellind, "Remember the guards,"  
  
All eyes flickered towards either the door or the window.  
  
"We are going to go in to the forest to find them," whispered Oroweth, "Will you come?"  
  
"Of course I will . . . what about Elladan?"  
  
They looked again at their friend. His eyes and unfocused again and he was staring in to space. It unnerved the princes who looked away quickly.  
  
"Well? What of him? He is coming," whispered Astaler  
  
"Yes, though he has no weapons. Remember the dare?"  
  
Oroweth swore quietly and hit a cushion. His brothers stared at him in surprise.  
  
"Where on did you learn that?" hissed Legolas. Oroweth shrugged.  
  
"It does not matter. Elladan will have to risk it or loose the dare. We need him to be able to find the others. He seems to know exactly where his twin is and we have no notion of where either of them is. Come, it seems to me that the sky is getting lighter,"  
  
The six elves stood up and silently moved to the window. Thellind looked out. The two guards placed there much earlier in the night where still standing there. He turned and looked at the others. As if practised hundreds of times, which it probably was, Legolas slipped over the windowsill silently and climbed down the ivy that clung to the walls. Creeping up behind them he silently and efficiently knocked the two elves out. He signalled to the others who climbed down the ivy after him.  
  
Like shadows, the six young elves slipped off in to the night in single file, their hearts pounding as each of them realised that the elf they were following had no knowledge of the forest of Mirkwood.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
King Thranduil sat in his throne pondering the happenings of the previous night. Had he perhaps been a little too harsh on his son? Was it fair to sentence him to being locked in his room, guarded heavily until further notice? It had seemed right at the time, but then so did many other things. He idly took a sip of wine as Lord Elrond walked in. The greeted each other with a bow.  
  
"Lord Elrond, even though we have barely known each other a few days, I have come to trust your judgement well. Was I too hard on my son last night?" the worried king looked at his friend, who sat there pondering.  
  
"I believe, King Thranduil, that you ought to go and talk to him now. Perhaps they had good reason to be following their mothers. At least we know that our sons have bonded well. I feared at first that they would not,"  
  
The king sighed and nodded. He pushed his crown of leaves and berries back on to his head as it threatened to fall off. He pushed himself up, and walked off to his sons' bedroom, red robed swishing behind him, glinting in the light. Elrond sat there staring at nothing in particular. Perhaps he too had been to harsh in dealing out punishment to Elladan.  
  
That was when it hit him. He had only punished Elladan. Elrohir was nowhere to be seen. The two were never apart from each other, even for a few seconds.  
  
"Celebrian!" he called, suddenly worried, "Celebrian!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Thranduil hummed to himself happily as he walked along a corridor. He nodded to the guards outside Thellind's room and dismissed them. They bowed low and marched off to other duties, then opened the prince's door. He would forgive the listen carefully to the boy, as a father should, and then he would let him go back to training, or whatever it was Thellind did these days when not getting in to trouble. He made a mental note to find out.  
  
"Thellind, we need to talk," he began, scanning the room. There was no sign of Thellind. Thranduil narrowed his eyes and looked again.  
  
The bed was not slept in and a small bag lay on the window seat, crumbs scattered around it and an apple core peeking out of it.  
  
Instantly his good mood was gone. He strode over to the window and looked out of it. Below him two guards lay, seemingly asleep, curled up next to each other. They were behind a bush where they would not be seen by passers by, but could be spotted easily from the window. He turned around and strode across the floor again, his face going red as he bellowed, "THELLIND!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Prince Thellind, however, was unable to hear his parent screaming angrily about what was going to happen when he got his hands on his delinquent son. He was too busy staying alive.  
  
Elladan had led them to the spiders' den without getting lost. He had said something about always knowing where his twin was. A special bond, were the exact words. Thellind gulped as he looked at the two bundles dangling from a tree, covered in spider webs. They were clearly Nilwethion and Elrohir. Who else could the long, thin shapes be?  
  
From where he stood in the trees, Legolas could see blood dripping from one of the bundles, and hoped desperately that the wound, whatever it was, was not fatal. If the blood was managing to seep through the thick, sticky webs then there must indeed be a lot of blood. Too much for one elf alone to loose. The young prince winced and gripped his sword nervously. He glanced at Oroweth.  
  
"Oroweth," he whispered, so quietly that only the elves could hear him. Oroweth turned to him.  
  
"We have to get Elladan out of here. He will hardly last a second with no weapon,"  
  
Oroweth nodded grimly.  
  
"Take him to our glade and wait for us there. Whatever happens you must stay there. STAY there!"  
  
"But . . ."  
  
"Do not make me hurt you little brother," whispered Oroweth, glaring. Legolas nodded his head once in submission and silently disappeared in to the undergrowth, Elladan trailing miserably after him. The lonely twin did not want to let his brother out of his sight again, now that he had been found.  
  
Oroweth looked to his three brothers nervously.  
  
"We need a diversion," he said, keeping his voice low so as not to bring attention to them, "Nuryávië, I want you to be a decoy. Throw stones at them. Shout at them. Draw them away from their den. Get us as much time as you can without getting yourself captured. Astaler, Thellind, follow me. We will meet in our glade as soon as can. Once you have got to the glade do not leave it until we are all there. Understand?"  
  
His brothers nodded and Oroweth hoped that they could not see how nervous he was in the blackness. Nuryávië walked out of the bushes to the edge of the den and whistled loudly.  
  
"Attercop!" he yelled loudly, "Attercop!"  
  
He bent down, picked up a stone and threw it at one of the spiders, making it fall ungracefully out of its tree. The beast got up angrily and snarled at the prince, foam coming from its mouth. Other spiders lowered themselves from their trees on their thread and clattered down the branches. Nuryávië threw another stone and then danced off. The spiders' leapt after him, howling and spitting angrily. The other three waited until no spiders were left in the clearing before climbing swiftly up the tree where the two bundles hung.  
  
They drew the two limp bundles up on to the branch and slit them open with their sharp daggers, revealing two corpse like elves. In the half-light of the trees, the two elves seemed to be the wrong colour and their veins stood out on their skin like a crow in the middle of doves. Nilwethion's wound seemed not to be bleeding much, but there was still a steady drip. Without stopping for a second, the three conscious elves carried their prizes away in to the woods.  
  
They stopped only briefly to tie a ripped strip of fabric from one of their cloaks to Nilwethion's ankle to stop the blood from flowing. If they did not, the spiders would have an easy trail to follow.  
  
Travelling as quickly as they could, the three princes emerged in their glade, greeted eagerly by Legolas and Elladan. In the light of the glade, for the branches had thinned out so that the sun could peep through, the two limp bodies looked worse. They were both, indeed, powder blue, their blood disfigured by the poison. Their veins were even darker than they had seemed, creating a network over dark blue lines patterning their skin like tattoos. Elrohir's hair seemed to have become more of a dark grey than black and Nilwethion's seemed more like white than its usual golden brown. Nilwethion was covered in his own blood and splashes and flecks of the stuff decorated Elrohir. The pair seemed not to be breathing.  
  
"Ai Valar, please help us," whispered Legolas.  
  
Upon seeing his brother, Elladan let out a cry and grasped him from Astaler, who had been carrying him. Kneeling on the ground, the Imladris elf began sobbing brokenly, holding Elrohir in his arms and picking away strands of the sticky web.  
  
"We must get them back to the halls," muttered Astaler to Oroweth, "We do not know what they have suffered, or how long they have to live,"  
  
"We must wait for Nuryávië," came the reply, "We made a promise and we do not know what danger he is in, being chased by the spiders,"  
  
Thellind gently put Nilwethion on the ground and Legolas held his dagger over the princes' mouth and nose. Condensation appeared on the bright surface, relieving Legolas and his brothers.  
  
"Well at least he is alive," muttered the prince. He repeated the trick with Elrohir and confirmed the same thing.  
  
"They both live, but for how long I cannot be sure," he said, "If only Nuryávië would hurry," he looked in to the dark void of the forest helplessly.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
King Thranduil was in a fuming rage. He had ordered the whole palace to be searched for Thellind, but no trace of him could be found save the two unconscious guards who had at last woken up groggily. The angry king was pacing up and down muttering darkly to himself, concocting punishments suitable for 'such a disobedient, wild, ruffian child'. The queen was sitting with Celebrian on the edge of tears. Captain Silnan entered and bowed to the king.  
  
"Your majesties?" he ventured. The king stopped pacing and looked up as the queen dragged her handkerchief away from her eyes.  
  
"My guards have searched your halls as thoroughly as possible and not a trace can be found of any of your sons,"  
  
"What? None of them? Not even the sensible ones?" bellowed the king. Silnan blanched.  
  
"No sir, not even the sensible ones,"  
  
"Well find them!" he howled, "Comb the forest if you must!"  
  
He began pacing again, and then seemed to come to a decision.  
  
"Silnan, where is my sword?" he demanded, "I will find them myself!"  
  
With that the angry monarch marched out of the room, still listing his dark threats. The queen gave her friend a look and burst in to tears again, burying her face in her lacy handkerchief. Calensil crawled on to her mothers lap and wrapped her arms around her neck. She turned to Elrond, standing close by, unsure of what to do or how to react. Calensil looked at him, her large eyes shinning with tears.  
  
"This is what ada is like when he is angry,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
At last, after what seemed like eternity, prince Nuryávië ran in to the clearing out of breath. He paused for a moment gasping in air, leaning against a tree.  
  
"I came as soon as I could," he managed at last, "Come, we must get back,"  
  
Oroweth picked up Nilwethion who had still not come around and Elladan helped up Elrohir who had at last come around, though was unable to focus on anything or stand up on his own. They had only gone a few steps when a low, guttural voice behind Legolas snarled; "You ain't goin' anywhere,"  
  
The elf turned around to see a long black arrow pointed between his eyes.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Hmm, I seem to be good at cliffies at the moment. **Evil snigger** so, yeah, yet another chapter where everything is going wrong. Looking on the bright side, at least they're all together and at least they're all alive at the moment.  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ you are completely right! Homework is one of the most evil creatures in existence. Yes, it lives . . .  
  
DOT ~~ Hehe, I love your reactions. This one is going to be a lot more difficult to get out of than the last one. Trust me. As for the new child, the more the merrier.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ Thanks for pointing out the mistake. I should really get myself a beta reader. I completely missed it.  
  
LEXIE ~~ I'll email you as soon as I get time. Do you have MSNmessenger?  
  
**EMQU gives reviewers nice big cookies**  
  
If anyone ever wants to talk to me my email addy is on my bio page. I love chatting to new people so yeah, drop me a line.  
  
Please make my day and click the little 'submit review' box in the bottom left hand corner of the screen. 


	12. Seven Princes

CHAPTER 12 - Seven Princes  
  
Legolas stared down the length of the black arrow in to the fowl yellow eyes of an orc. The orc stared back, a satisfied smirk on his ugly features. The elven prince gulped and opened his mouth to warn the others, but it was too late.  
  
Dozens of orcs brandishing scimitars, swords, spears and maces looking equally evil and dangerous leapt out of the trees, snarling. Looking up, Legolas saw more orcs lining the trees pointing arrows at himself, his brothers and the twins. The elves didn't stand a chance against them.  
  
"Bind 'em!" yelled the orc pointing the bow and arrow at Legolas, "An' don't let any escape or I'll have ya hides!"  
  
Complying quickly, the orcs brought out rope and made to tie up Astaler first, but the prince pulled out a dagger and slashed at any orc that come near him. Snarling violently, two orcs pounced on him, smothering him. One of the orcs kicked the elf's legs out from underneath him and knocked the prince out with a heavy blow from the butt end of his spear. They picked up the prince and bound his wrists, ankles and neck with a rope, and then moved on to Thellind.  
  
This time, the elf made no attempt to defend himself.  
  
"You!" snarled the first orc, drop the body!"  
  
Oroweth slowly bent down and laid Nilwethion on the ground, keeping his eyes on the vile creatures now turning their attentions on him. As soon as he stood up, thick, stinking rope was tugged and twisted to stop him escaping and he was tied on to a line with the others.  
  
Once the princes were all in a line, tied together by the ropes around their necks, the orcs turned their attentions to the twins. The leader narrowed his eyes, as if making a decision. Elrohir whimpered, still in pain from the spider poison. The orc captain smiled, a red light skinning in his eyes.  
  
"Snarak! That one's as good as dead. Finish it. We keep the other for sport."  
  
He turned away and fired his arrow in to the air. From the distance Legolas heard a dull squawk as the arrow came in contact with a bird and winced. The expression did not go unnoticed and the orcs began to laugh.  
  
"'T'will be fun playing with that one!" laughed one orc. The first orc with the arrow turned around and glared.  
  
"These are not for play yet. I have another . . .holiday . . .in store for them," the new orc bared his teeth, but bowed his head in submission.  
  
"Yes captain Urshak," he muttered. Urshak nodded and turned back to the others.  
  
"Move out!"  
  
Legolas turned his head to see what was happening to the twins. One of them, Elladan, had been dragged away and tied on to the line of princes, fighting feebly to get back to his brother. The other, Elrohir, was being held down by two orcs as another was forcing something down his throat. Poison most likely, thought the prince. A whip viciously lashed at his ankles and the prince gave a yelp as he stumbled, causing the orcs jogging past him to laugh. Oroweth caught his arm, stopping Legolas from falling. In his eyes, Legolas could see a look of despair.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Thranduil and his small 'hunting' party slipped through the undergrowth of Mirkwood. They had now been searching for hours and there was still no sign of any of the princes. What at first had been rage was now turning in to a desperate worry in the king's heart. He stopped and turned to Silnan.  
  
"Where would they go?" he asked quietly, "The trees here only sing of danger, but refuse to say what is going on, or if they have seen my sons,"  
  
Silnan nodded quietly.  
  
"I wonder if they know themselves what is happening, or if they have only heard it from others. Is it not around here the princes have their glade?"  
  
The king furrowed his brow. What glade? He really did have to start getting to know his children better.  
  
"I think it is this way," said Silnan. The king nodded.  
  
"We will check there then. Mayhap there will be something,"  
  
The small party moved off again in to the dark shadows.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Calensil gave a small scream, and then covered her hands with her mouth, her eyes wide. The queen, who had finally stopped crying, jumped and looked at her young daughter.  
  
"Calensil? What is it?"  
  
"They are in trouble nana," she whispered through her hands. The queen let a small smile play on her lips, attempting to hide her worry.  
  
"Then that must mean your adar has found them," she said. Calensil shook her head.  
  
"No naneth, real trouble. Really big trouble,"  
  
The queen stared at her daughter, and then reminded herself to breathe. What was the child talking about? Her little ones could not truly be in trouble could they? She dismissed the thought. Calensil must be imagining things. She was good at that. Yes, that was the answer. Imagination.  
  
Without realising it, Imlammthien shuddered.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Halt!"  
  
The orcs came to an abrupt stop and roughly pulled the ropes from their prisoners' necks.  
  
"What do we do with 'em?" asked one orc, his clawed hands wrapped around Nuryavie's hair. Urshak tilted his head and looked at the elves.  
  
"Tie the things to trees. Don't let 'em talk. If they do, rip their throats out," he said. The six elves found themselves being dragged by the hair to six separate trees and bound tightly to the huge trunks. They looked at one another helplessly, not daring to say a word. Two orcs stood on guard at each tree, watching the elves carefully.  
  
Avoiding the glare of the orcs and the pain in his legs from the cruel whips that had slashed his skin on the long march, Legolas looked around at the others. His brothers seemed to be in much the same state as he, blood on their legs after the whips and still panting, trying to draw breathe from the air, but Elladan seemed almost dead. The orcs had treated him worse than the princes, taking every opportunity to whip him or thump him and yelling catcalls at him, telling the unfortunate creature how weak and disgusting he was. The elf hung his head, tresses of dark hair hiding his pale face. Legolas was guessing that Elladan was also suffering from the knowledge his brother was dead, and that he was sinking in to a deep depression that would kill him too - if the orcs didn't first.  
  
Legolas began listening instead to the trees. What he heard worried him. Though the trees were not telling him exactly what was happening, they were whispering of a great danger. Their stiffness was a sign that they were panicking, but what it was about he could not tell. He looked up again and saw Urshak walking towards him. Legolas stiffened and prepared himself for whatever was about to happen.  
  
Urshak stopped, his body only an inch or two away from Legolas. The elven prince could feel the worried stares of his brothers. Elladan had not moved, and was noticing nothing.  
  
The orcs breath was fowl, as if he had never brushed his teeth - which, most likely, he had not. Urshak tipped his head on one side, studying the face of Legolas who was desperately trying not to seem scared. The orc raised his hand and put it gently on Legolas' cheek, his thumb stroking the corner of the elf's mouth. Legolas quivered and tried to turn his head, but Urshak dug his claws in to the soft skin of his cheek. The elven prince bit his lip to stop himself crying out. This only humoured the orc captain.  
  
From where he was standing watching, Thellind clenched his fists, wishing he could pull the orc away from his little brother. The knots, however, held fast, not allowing him to move. One of his guards jabbed him in the leg with a dagger.  
  
"Quite beautiful," the Urshak muttered, "Just as I used to be. I suppose you can sing like a lark, can't you, brat of Thranduil?"  
  
Legolas did not answer, but shut his eyes tightly, wishing the orc would take his scaly hand away. His cheek, where the orc was touching it, felt as though it was burning. A small tear escaped from the corner of his eye.  
  
"Oh look, ickle brother doesn't want to answer," he mocked, "You'll have to answer for 'im then," he said, turning his attention to Thellind. Thellind pressed his shoulder blades in to the tree as the orc stalked over to him. Urshak narrowed his eyes and grabbed hold of Thellind's hair, lifting it to his nose and sniffing it. The orc let the hair fall slowly, strand by stand until only a few remained in his hand. These he ripped out making Thellind let out a small sound of pain.  
  
Growing bored with Thellind, the disgusting captain moved on to the next elf - Oroweth. The elven prince glowered at the orc as though daring it to touch him. Urshak laughed loudly, and then put his claw to Oroweth's chin, making the prince lift his head.  
  
"Let me look at you," hissed the orc, taking in every one of Oroweth's features. The prince held his breath, expecting pain. Pain, however, did not come.  
  
"Little brother," whispered the orc, "My little brother,"  
  
Oroweth narrowed his eyes in confusion.  
  
"You look just as I used to with your dark hair and girly blue eyes," the voice of the orc became bitter as he spoke to Oroweth.  
  
"Are ye' proud of your little brothers?" he hissed. Oroweth said nothing.  
  
"Silent bunch aren't ye'?" sniggered the fowl creature, "Very different to big brother then,"  
  
"What are you talking about?" asked Astaler from the next tree. Urshak clapped his hands together as if in delight.  
  
"It speaks!" he cried, in mock joviality, "It speaks,"  
  
He paced across the clearing to the new elf, who was now wishing he had kept his mouth shut.  
  
"Did daddy never tell you?" crooned the orc captain, "Oroweth ain't the first son. Ye do know that . . .don't you? Oh ye don't!" he cried, registering the look of confusion on the faces of the princes, "I din't think daddy would tell ya, but I'm surprised mama din't. I trusted ya mama. My mama. Yes, little elves, I'm ye brother,"  
  
Astaler shook his head.  
  
"You lie. We have no other brothers,"  
  
At this, the orc laughed loudly, attracting the attention of the other orcs.  
  
"Arshin! They don't believe me! Din't I tell ye!"  
  
One of the orcs shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Show 'em then," he called back, "Show 'em the ring!"  
  
Urshak clicked his claws, as if remembering, and then pulled a ring off his finger and thrust it in Astalers face. Astaler focused on the ring and gasped. Again, Urshak laughed.  
  
"Go on, little brother, tell the nice elves what the ring is,"  
  
"It . . .it is a ring of the house of Oropher," he muttered, "With the symbol of our house,"  
  
"Now read the inscription,"  
  
Astaler bit his lip and shook slightly, trying desperately not to believe what the orc was telling him.  
  
"Read it!"  
  
"Prince Neldoreth Thranduilion of Mirkwood," he muttered  
  
"Louder! They can't hear ye!"  
  
"Prince Neldoreth Thranduilion of Mirkwood," cried Astaler, unable to bear it. The orc tossed the ring in to the air and caught it, slipping it back on to his thick, claw-like finger laughing.  
  
"You still refuse to believe me," he sang. The orc turned his attentions back to Legolas, small rebellious tears running down his fair elven face.  
  
"Now then little brother," he crooned, "We can't have tears. No orcs cry,"  
  
Legolas stared at Urshak - or, as it appeared to be - Neldoreth.  
  
"I am not an orc," he whispered, fearing the answer. He was right to.  
  
"Yet. Why d'ye think ye still alive?" asked the orc, still crooning, "We've plans f' yew. Ye'll make great captains, like me. Ye daddy did tell ye how orcs were first made din't he? Or is that another secret he kept from ye?"  
  
Legolas bit his tongue. Thranduil had not told any of them how orcs were created. That was one of the servants a few years ago when her brother had been snatched away by orcs on a border raid. The young prince trembled.  
  
"Kept ye all very well protected din't he? Scared 'cos' he din't want to loose any more of his precious babies. Well let me tell ye all somethin'. He won't come a lookin' for ye. He din't send anyone after me, an' he won't send anyone after yew."  
  
He put his mouth by Legolas' ear, loudly whispering his short speech. Legolas moaned and tried to wriggle away, but the orc clamped his arms to the tree with his strong claws. He carried on.  
  
"They tortured me for so long. The hours turned in to days, the days turned in to weeks and the weeks dragged out in to months and months and months! So I hear, at least. Time ain't got no meaning when ye locked away in cold, dark dungeon with no light, stale food and where your only company are your screams of agony. They captured me when I was out scouting with nine others. We were betrayed, ye see, else we coulda fought back. As it was, we din't stand a chance. Much like yew. Now, like me, my little brothers are gonna be turned in to bitter orcs."  
  
"No," moaned Legolas, "'Tis not true. You lie. You lie!"  
  
The lips of his captor turned upwards at the corners.  
  
"We're gonna have a little fun with ye friend now. Rest while ye can, dear brother, you will have no rest at all soon enough,"  
  
The orc planted a kiss on Legolas' forehead, just as the queen had done when all the princes were smaller when they were sent off to bed.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
When the elven 'hunting' party entered the glade that the princes had claimed for their own, a shock awaited them. On the ground lay two forms. Nilwethion and Elrohir.  
  
"Ai dear Valar," moaned Thranduil, rushing to the side of his son. Silnan looked to Elrohir and the other twelve elves stood gaping for a few moments, before going to help the leaders.  
  
Elrohir was clutching at his stomach, writhing on the ground in pain, moaning and crying out. Captain Silnan wondered if the Imladris elf even knew they were there.  
  
"He must lie strait," said one of the elves - a healer as well as a warrior, "If he stays scrunched up like this he will die faster. 'Tis a miracle he still lives,"  
  
The seven elves around Elrohir attempted to pin the elf down strait, lying on his back but the young creature kicked and thrashed in his agony. Silnan fell back as the elf, as if possessed; hit him in the eye with flailing fists.  
  
"This is no good," he cried, "We must get them both back to the palace. My lord, does your son still live? My lord?" Silnan turned to see King Thranduil stare at him with sad, hopeless eyes and a face showing the same amount of pain he had only ever seen once before.  
  
When Thranduil had lost Neldoreth.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Awww, poor princes. Thranduil really should have told them about Neldoreth though. Thank you so much for all the review I got for the last chapter! I love you all!  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
FIREANGEL ~~ yay, long review! You can pity Thellind even MORE now. I think that being busted is a nice prospect than being turned in to an orc. They've escaped the spiders, but now they just have to escape the orcs. Hehe, this is going to be fun.  
  
SKIBUM ~~ sorry, I think Aliela beat you to it.  
  
ANGEL 1 ~~ wow, that's a lot of reviews! Glad you like it so much.  
  
DOT ~~ hehe, I doubt Elrond and Celebrian will want to come back either, but their sons might just drag them back. They get on so well with the princes. I don't think that Thranduil meant for his sons to turn out like hooligans, but they did anyway.  
  
LEXIE ~~ I have no idea how long this is going to be. Déjà vu was only going to be about 11 or 12 chapters and look how many that's got!  
  
MAVERICK GIRL ~~ there is a third option for how they get away, and I'm still contemplating it, but right now torturing them will be a bit more fun. Being Calensil might not seem so attractive soon.  
  
ORODRUIN ~~ he's not going to be angry with them for a while, but he's going to be really emotionally hurt by them. I'm not sure if the adults ever will find out why they went out, because they'll be too glad to see them alive again.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ nah, Legolas isn't bad. He's just a bit of hooligan at the moment, as Dot said.  
  
DAW THE MINSTREL ~~ all the children get in deep trouble at some point in the fic. Thranduil is always impressive, whatever he does. 


	13. Hidden In The Dark

CHAPTER 13 - Hidden In The Dark  
  
Although it felt like eternity, in reality it only took four days for the princes and Elladan to be forced to run with the cruel whips of the orcs snapping away at their heels, the loud and brash mocking of the creatures burning in their ears, eating away at their souls. At last, just as the sun began to rise on the fifth day, the orcs reached the destination point with their prisoners.  
  
They had arrived at the foot of a tall, forest covered mountain, peaked with snow. Beside the mountain was another, and another, and another, stretched out across the landscape. The mountains of Mirkwood.  
  
Urshak gave a whistle and three large orcs stepped forwards, pushing a large boulder, sweating and grunting. The boulder finally gave way and rolled a few feet. Behind where it had stood was a gloomy tunnel, carved out of the mountain. The floor of the tunnel was littered with jagged stones and pieces of bone. A sharp spear prodded Legolas in his back.  
  
"In!" shouted Urshak  
  
The heart of the elven prince quailed. Down the tunnel there would be only the red torchlight to see by. No stars, or sun or moon. No trees. No life, apart from themselves and their captors, aside from a few rats, perhaps, if the orcs had not killed them all.  
  
"In!" cried Urshak again, becoming angry, "Do not dare to disobey me again, little songbird!"  
  
Songbird. The nickname Urshak had given Legolas on the second day, after forcing him to sing. As he stepped, terrified, in to the tunnel, Legolas wondered again about the name. It was not even as if the orcs liked elvish singing. They hated it, did they not? So why make him sing? There were too many strange and unanswered questions.  
  
Behind him, Legolas could feel the presence of his brothers. A light in the dark. They had not spoken to each other since they had been captured, for fear of having their throats ripped out, but they had not needed to. Seeing each other, knowing they were not alone, that had been enough. Now Legolas longed to hear the voice of his siblings, no matter what the words were. For all he cared it could have been Oroweth giving him a tongue lashing for putting nettles in his bed, as had happened not so long ago. It could be Astaler yelling heathen oaths down the corridor after him as he fled away with Thellind and Nilwethion as they laughed. It could be anything, so long as he could hear an elvish voice. Even his adar's angry yells would be welcomed.  
  
Behind him, the prince heard a muffled moan. Elladan. The poor Imladris elf had suffered worse than any of the princes. There had been no need to keep him for anything other than fun and play, from the orcs point of view. Legolas winced with pity. He had watched, dumbstruck, as the orcs had made Elladan scream in agony in the forest, hating himself for not being able to help.  
  
Suddenly Legolas tripped in the darkness and went flying down the tunnel to the howling laughter of the orcs. Sharp rocks and ancient bones tore at his skin, and the blonde prince put out a hand to stop himself. Roughly, he was dragged to his feet. Legolas looked up in to the small eyes of Urshak. He quivered, expecting a beating. Nothing came. Instead, the orc captain smiled wickedly at him.  
  
"Behold yer new home, little songbird," he said, and stepped aside. Legolas gasped. Without realising it, he had fallen to the end of the tunnel and now he stood looking around at a huge cavern, filled with busy orcs. Above them, carved pillars stretched out keeping the ceiling up, and the walls were decorated with ornate pictures and scenes, much like the tapestries at home. Only these pictures had been made with blood and bone and rotting fish scales. Red torches hung, flickering on the walls and hung from the ceiling dripping hot wax. In an odd way, the cavern was sickly beautiful in a twisted sort of way. The prince wondered how many slaves and prisoners had lost their lives making it.  
  
Without warning, Urshak hit Legolas around the back of his head. The power of the blow knocked him to his knees and the orc laughed loudly. Orcs looked up from their business and then began cheering as they realised their captain was back.  
  
"Look at what Urshak brought home!" cried the orc captain loudly, making any orcs who had not noticed him look up. He grabbed Legolas by the hair and jerked his head back. The orcs closed in, their fangs grinning wildly in evil delight. The elven prince stepped back in fear. He had never seen so many orcs in his life, and now, when he needed one most, he had no weapon. Urshak sensed his fear, and threw the elf forward on his face. The orcs laughed.  
  
"Take it to the cell prepared!" he ordered, "The rest are comin' with the others. Treat little songbird nice now,"  
  
Rough hands grabbed Legolas, heaving him to his feet. Looking around for one last time, the prince saw his brothers entering the cavern looking pale. There was no sign of Elladan. What had they done with him?  
  
As the orcs tugged at the rope around his neck, Legolas was forced down another tunnel with more of the sick decorations and lost sight of his brothers. The floor of the tunnel was laid like cobbles, but instead of cobbles there were bones, smoothed down by the amount of feet that had walked over it. This was not like the entrance, but the same feel of ancient terror and pain clung to it. Legolas let out a small whimper, to the delight of his captors.  
  
The prince heard a door being unlocked, and then the press of orcs threw him, again, on his face. He scrambled up, just in time to see that he had been thrown in to a cold, plain cell. The door behind him swung shut and a key clicked in the lock. Overcome with weariness and terror, Legolas flopped back down again. In the cell, no candles were hung and there were no bars in the door to see the lights from the tunnel. There were no windows to allow light in from the sun or moon or stars. All there was blackness, total and complete. The prince allowed sleep to take him while he had the chance. He knew in his heart the peace would not last.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Elrohir awoke, screaming. Sweat poured down his face and drenched his bed and he sat bolt upright, terrified. A cool, comforting hand touched his shoulder and the elf remembered where he was. He looked around to see Elrond sitting in a chair next to him, his face a mask of sorrow. Elrohir looked away.  
  
"Elladan is in pain," he whispered sadly. Elrond bowed his head.  
  
"So you have said every day since your brother disappeared," he replied. The tone of his voice echoed the look on his face.  
  
"Where is naneth?"  
  
"She has gone to find rest. She was more weary than I have seen her in many years,"  
  
The son almost fell in to Elronds arms, desperately trying to find a place of security where the monsters of his dreams, of his brothers' reality, could not reach him. A tear fell from his eye, unbidden, dropping on to the white sheets where it spread outwards. Another and another joined it as Elrohir began sobbing. At last, the final tear had fallen and he looked up at Elrond, despair in his eyes.  
  
"Has Nilwethion awoken yet ada?"  
  
Elrond shook his head, trying to hide his distaste. When Elladan had gone missing, Elrond had looked around for someone to blame, and his blame came to rest upon the royal family of Mirkwood. He pitied the king and queen, as they had lost just as much as he had, but if they had put up more guards and been more careful, this would never have happened. Elrohir noticed the face of his adar gain an expressionless mask, and knew what Elrond was thinking.  
  
"You must not blame the princes adar. They are truly wonderful people. We are at fault as much as they are,"  
  
"We?"  
  
"Elladan and I," the elf choked out the name, and scrunched up in to a little ball of inner pain and suffering.  
  
"Adar, I cannot stand it for any longer," he wailed, "I cannot stand it!"  
  
"I know, my son, I know,"  
  
Elrohir looked up, a sudden anger in his eyes. He clutched at the white bed sheets surrounding him and stared at his father.  
  
"No you do not! You will never know! I can feel Elladans pain and anguish! Everything they do to him comes to me as I sleep! You sit there, upset at loosing him, but for me I may as well be there!" he hissed, making Elrond sit up in shock, "You have lost your son, but I? I have lost myself! I cannot live without Elladan, and cannot live with Elladan when he is in so much pain and I cannot help him! I hate you! I hate everyone! "  
  
The lord of Imladris stood up and stared back at the red glint in his sons' eyes. He bowed, and then turned around and walked slowly out of the room feeling the angry glare of his son on his back, silver robes swishing methodically along the floor with each step.  
  
As soon as he left, Elrohir threw himself back down on to his bed and began crying again. Not for himself, but for his brother.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The queen of Mirkwood sat in her chair by the bedside of Nilwethion. Around her, the white candle that had been burning so brightly during the night had burnt out and daylight flooded in through the large windows. She held her sons hand, squeezing it gently every so often hoping, desperately wishing for a response. Her cheeks were stained with tears after days and nights of weeping, but now she sat still and silent, like an old dead weeping willow tree.  
  
Her sad eyes never once left her sons face, and her beaded black robes, for she had given up hope and begun morning his death, had not moved since she first sat in the chair the day Nilwethion had been brought back. A black veil rested over her long hair in preparation for Nilwethion to stop breathing and to lower over her face, something she was sure would happen, or the news that her other sons had been found dead. She expected nothing less. Not after Neldoreth.  
  
For months after Neldoreth had disappeared she had kept up hope, but he had not come back. Her own, beloved son. Now her six other sons had been viciously ripped away from her, and she had no hope left.  
  
Her thoughts strayed to her daughters, one born and one still in her womb, and she wondered what ill fortune they would come to. She looked around for Calensil and realised the small elfling was not there. The queen began to panic. Where was her baby? Her little girl?  
  
"Calensil?" She cried, her voice cracking slightly from its lack of use since her sons had disappeared, "Calensil?"  
  
She stood up, muscles complaining loudly at the sudden use after they had been still for so long. Queen Imlammthien hurried out of the room where her son lay; suddenly terrified she would loose Calensil. She ran through the palace, knocking in to servants and guards in her desperate rush to find the princess, and banged open the door to Calensil's room. The young princess was there, curled up on her bed. The queen breathed a sigh of relief and snatched the child up in to a motherly embrace.  
  
The princess let out a small squeak, having not expected her naneth to appear so suddenly. As the queen set her daughter down, she did not let go of her hand, and pulled her gently out of the room as Imlammthien began to walk back to where her son lay in a come.  
  
"Naneth?" gasped Calensil, "What is it? Naneth?"  
  
"I will not loose you too," replied the queen, "You are not leaving my sight ever again,"  
  
The princess had to run to keep up with the fast pace of her mother, and the way the queen was clutching at her hand began to become painful.  
  
"Naneth," she moaned, "Naneth slow down, my hand hurts,"  
  
Queen Imlammthien paid no attention. She could no longer hear Calensil, or anything else around her.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
As he lay in the dark, Legolas lost all sense of time or surroundings. He knew not how long he had been there. Was it seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? The prince had no idea, but he began to feel sick with worry. His mind began to run over questions and questions. Questions that had no answers. What would happen to him? Where were the others? As the angst welled up inside him, Legolas felt the need to scream. His ears buzzed and thrummed in the silence, and he could not tell whether his eyes were open or closed. All he could feel was a smooth, cold stone with no end.  
  
Reaching out in front of him, the prince groped along in the dark, his hands probing the floor, trying to find an end. At last he found it. A wall. He turned and lent his back against it, glad to have found some change in the unending nothingness.  
  
Suddenly, the door was flung open and red light burst in to the room. Legolas winced, his eyes not used to the light. Before he had time to think, Urshak strode in to the cell, dragging one of the princes behind him by the hair. Thellind.  
  
His tunic, boots and cape were gone, leaving the prince only in his leggings. His brown hair was stained and matted with blood, and his right eye was black and swollen. A long gash ran across his chest, and blood ran freely from his lip. Urshak threw the prince on the floor and nodded, smiling cruelly at Legolas. Legolas hunched up against the wall. The orc captain set his red, flickering torch in a socket in the wall and left, locking the door behind him.  
  
Legolas scrambled to his shaking brother.  
  
"Thellind? What have they done to you?" he whispered.  
  
The older prince looked at Legolas, despair in his eyes, but gave no reply.  
  
"Thellind? Thellind what is it?"  
  
Without answering, Thellind pulled himself up and staggered over to the wall. He reached up and plucked the torch out of its bracket and threw it on the floor, staring at it. After a few moments, the flame flickered and went out, leaving the princes again in darkness.  
  
"Thellind?" whispered Legolas, desperation in his voice, "Why did you do that?"  
  
Again, Thellind said nothing, but a small voice in Legolas' head told him the answer.  
  
You can hide in the darkness.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Aren't I nice? The torches by the way, in case any of you think I'm completely crazy, are the old fashioned type. Just a piece of burning wood that you put in a bracket on the wall to keep it in place. Yes, there are candles as well. These orcs are sophisticated. They have both. Things are starting to get interesting. Hehehe.  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
ALISON ~~ oh wow, 12 reviews! So . . .you don't like cliff-hangers then? **Evil smirk** you'll be glad to know that no, Nilwethion is not dead, and if you read Déjà Vu you'll find he's in that, therefore, as Déjà Vu is after this story, he can't die. As to where I get my ideas from, I have three wonderful muses. I don't seem to be able to write funny fics though. This one was supposed to be, but as you can see it didn't quite turn out like that. I also get inspiration from stuff in History, like the inquisition and the suffragettes (next chapter).  
  
MAVERICK GIRL ~~ well most of them wind up alive, but I might have to kill someone. The two who were caught by spiders, well, you can see Elrohir is fine, but for Nilwethion you'll have to wait.  
  
ELFAER GILLIEL ~~ hey, no sweat. Thanks for the review.  
  
DAW THE MINSTREL ~~ Thranduil is out of his mind with worry. So is Imlammthien, as you can see. This should be interesting.  
  
LOTRSEER3350 ~~ the princes won't die, but I can put them through a LOT more pain and torture than this. Believe me. To find out what happens to Calensil you're just going to have to wait a couple more chapters.  
  
THRANDUILLION ~~ more chappies coming  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ writers block? O_o, nasty! Hehe, I can get scarier than this.  
  
FIREANGEL ~~ ARGH! HP! EVIL! Saying that, I have an HP fic myself but hey, never mind. DON'T MIX THE TWO!!! Actually, nothing much is happy in the rest of this fic. Hehe. As for the orc brother, yes I am Sirius.  
  
GREENLEAFGRL ~~ ok, that WAS random. Clay Aiken? Never heard of . . .him? Her? It? Them? Sorry.  
  
ETERNALLYMINE ~~ actually, I figured that it was the other way around somehow. Many apologies if anything is incorrect.  
  
DOT ~~ oops, thanks for pointing the mistake out. Thranduil might loose another child, but he might not. **Annoying grin**  
  
LEXIE ~~ thanks for the review. I'm honoured! 


	14. Madness

CHAPTER 14 - Madness  
  
Somehow, having Thellind in the cell made things no better for Legolas than being alone. They could not see each other, since Thellind had thrown the torch on the floor plunging them in to darkness again, but Thellind had not spoken a word, or made a sound, though Legolas had begged him to say something. Anything.  
  
Legolas squirmed, the silence drawing out and ringing louder in his ears louder than any bells he had ever heard. Again, he had lost track of time or surroundings that he had gained when Thellind had been dragged in with the red light from the torch and the corridor. The young prince drew up his knees and rested his chin on them, quivering slightly.  
  
Beside him, Legolas felt something move and he jumped. A hand crept around his own, and the blonde relaxed as he realised it was only Thellind. What had he been expecting? The prince did not know. The warmth of his sibling was comforting, like a light in the dark. A small smile found its way to the princes' lips as he found himself thinking of happier times they had shared.  
  
The moment did not last, as the door slammed open, the red, flickering light again filling the room. The two princes winced, and pulled away from each other, their backs to the walls, as if it would make a difference.  
  
Urshak walked over to the two princes and looked down on them, smirking, as he ran a leather strap through his fingers. Legolas looked up defiantly, but Thellind began shaking and looked away at the opposite wall.  
  
The orc captain suddenly brought the leather strap down between the two princes, catching Legolas' hand. The elf drew his hand in quickly, but did not make any attempt to sooth the sharply stinging skin for fear of seeming weak. He glared at Urshak, who laughed. He turned away and nodded to two guards, standing to attention behind him. Two two orcs, dressed in well- made chain mail, dragged Legolas up to his feet roughly and pulled him out of the small cell.  
  
Twisting his head around, Legolas saw Thellind try to get up, only to be kicked in chest by Urshak. The blonde prince looked helplessly at his older brother, but quickly lost sight of him as he was dragged out of the cell in to the corridor. Urshak followed and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it with an ornate key. He slipped the key back on to the key ring around his waist, gave a nod, and the elf found himself being dragged off again.  
  
Instead of going back up to the main chamber, Legolas found himself being dragged down another wide corridor, much like the last. Orc who were going about their business stood aside quickly when they saw their captain coming and bowed to him, but leered at the prince as if they knew something he did not.  
  
At last Urshak unlocked another door, grabbed Legolas by the hair and threw him inside. The prince hit the floor without a sound, and scrambled up again quickly. His eyes flicked around the room and he gasped as he saw Oroweth staring at him, his hair hanging limply over his bloody face, his hands and ankles fastened to the wall with iron cuffs. Legolas opened his mouth to call to Oroweth, but the prince shook his head. Legolas quickly closed his mouth and looked back at the orcs, now standing around him in a small triangle.  
  
Looking the prince up and down, Urshak raised the leather strap and struck Legolas across the face with it. The prince did not blink, but stared back at Urshak as if nothing had happened. Again Urshak struck his across the face with the strap, and again Legolas did not react. The orc captain smiled.  
  
"Good," he whispered, "Very good. Impressive, little songbird,"  
  
A cold shiver ran down Legolas' spine, expecting Urshak to become angry. He did not. Instead, the orc began walking around Legolas as though inspecting him. The prince flicked a look at Oroweth, but Oroweth was watching Urshak with a look of defiance similar to his own.  
  
"Just as I used to be," crowed Urshak suddenly, stopping in front of Legolas.  
  
"You have said that before," Legolas replied. Urshak laughed loudly and clapped his crooked hands together.  
  
"Ah yes, an' yew'll be as I am now, soon enough," crowed the orc, "Unless . . . unless you choose the other way,"  
  
His yellow eyes narrowed as he looked at Legolas.  
  
"Ye see, little songbird, I've taken a liking to yew. Might make things a bit . . . nicer. Yew gets the choice,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Queen Imlammthien of Mirkwood sobbed in to a white cotton handkerchief. She had drawn the lacy black veil over her face and had a crying Calensil clutched closely to her.  
  
"My son is dead," she moaned, "My Nilwethion! The Valar have taken him! He is dead!"  
  
In her arms, Calensil was wriggling and writhing, desperately trying to escape her mothers' arms. For the past day, she had been held firmly in place on her mothers lap, sitting by the bed of Nilwethion, and now she wanted nothing more than to get away. It seemed, however, that her mother did not even acknowledge her.  
  
"My queen, he is not dead," she heard one of the healers saying. The queen, however, seemed not to hear the healer either.  
  
"My queen?"  
  
The queen continued to sob piteously. The door banged open and Thranduil came running in, slightly out of breath.  
  
"What is it?" he demanded. The healer scurried over to him.  
  
"King Thranduil, your son still lives, though queen Imlammthien seems sure that he is dead. We cannot persuade her otherwise!"  
  
The king swept over to the chair where his wife was moaning and weeping and put his hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Imlammthien?" he whispered, "Immy?"  
  
The queen looked up, red eyed.  
  
"My babies have all gone," she choked, "First Neldoreth, and then Oroweth and Astaler and Nuryávië and . . ." she drew a breath, " . . . and Legolas, and now Nilwethion is gone as well! The Valar have taken them all. Why are they so cruel? Oh my babies! They will not have Calensil or Hollinethir!" the queen turned back to her sodden handkerchief, tears spilling over the edge and soaking her sleeves. The king looked up at the healer, startled.  
  
"Have any of the search parties looking for my sons come back yet?" he asked, confused. The healer shrugged.  
  
"I have heard no news, my king. They would go to you first, good news or ill,"  
  
The king looked back to his mourning wife, and then something clicked.  
  
"Who is . . . Hollinethir?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Legolas stared wide-eyed at Urshak, unable to speak.  
  
"So, little songbird, what'll it be? Choose the hard path with yer brothers, or choose the easy path and embrace the shadows whilst staying elvish?"  
  
The prince said nothing, aware of all the eyes watching him carefully. He opened his dry mouth, and then shut it again.  
  
"Little songbird can't make his decision? Shall we help 'im?" asked Urshak, a wicked glint in his foul yellow eye. In a swift movement, Urshak grabbed the back Legolas' hair and twisted the prince around, tripping him up so he fell to the floor on his back. The two orc guards pinned the prince down so he was unable to move, and then Urshak knelt down on the princes' stomach and prized open he elf's mouth with a little difficulty. He unhooked a small, green glass bottle from his waist and unscrewed the bronze lid. Ramming the bottle in to Legolas' mouth, he only removed it once the last drop of oozy black liquid had trickled out. Then, he held Legolas' mouth firmly shut, making sure that the prince could not cough any of the liquid, whatever it was, back up.  
  
When Legolas felt the slimy liquid oozing down his throat, he knew instantly it was evil. His muscles were screaming at him to move, and his throat tried to close and repulse the liquid, but as Urshak was holding his mouth shut, there was nothing the prince could do but swallow it.  
  
The prince remembered once plucking a small purple berry from a plant when he was smaller. The berry had looked so tantalizing and delicious, yet as soon as he had tasted it, he could remember Oroweth, who had been watching over him, or at least, who had been supposed to be watching over him, and hitting him on the back, terrified, and then hanging him upside down to make him cough up the berry. He had only been five years old at the time, but he could still remember the disgusting, poisonous taste of the berry and the terror radiating from Oroweth. In the moment the liquid touched his throat, the prince was sure he could taste the berry again, and he could, again, sense the terror coming from Oroweth.  
  
He choked and gasped for breath as the stink from Urshak's unclean hand began to suffocate him, and the prince swallowed the last of the liquid. At last Urshak took his hand away and the three orcs stood up, leaving Legolas to curl up in pain on the floor.  
  
Suddenly, Legolas shuddered and wretched. The orcs flung themselves don upon him again and forced his mouth shut with their vile claws, until the body of the prince accepted that it would not be able to get rid of whatever the liquid was.  
  
Urshak smiled as the two orc guards pulled the prince to his feet. When they let go of his arms, Legolas fell down again at the captains feet almost instantly, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him up. His three captors laughed.  
  
"I see you ain't of no use yet, little songbird. We'll be back soon," said Urshak, and he swept out of the room, followed by his henchmen. On the floor, Legolas curled up in to a little ball and whimpered.  
  
"Legolas," cried Oroweth, as soon as the door shut, "Little brother, do not curl up. It will make the pain worse,"  
  
Legolas heard the words and tried to pull himself away from the small scrunched up ball of agony he had become, but the pain was too great. He could hardly move.  
  
"Legolas, listen to me! Do not curl up!" cried Oroweth again, "You will only have more pain!"  
  
Legolas looked up at his brother, clamped to the wall and unable to move with sorrowful eyes.  
  
"Help me Oroweth," he whispered, "Please, I cannot bear it,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In the centre of the main hall of the orc kingdom under the mountains of Mirkwood stood a large, flat stone. On top of the stone was a small cage with thick, metal bars, and inside the cage lay a miserable, raven-haired elf. Elladan.  
  
The elf, however he may have appeared, was not in as much pain as any of the orcs thought he was. Somehow, inside, he was better off than any of the princes, all of whom by now had suffered some sort of agony.  
  
"Elrohir," he whispered, "Elrohir I miss you,"  
  
The words, of course, had no effect. Elrohir could not hear the words. The elven twin did, however, take Elladans pain and suffering upon himself. That was how Elladan, even though the orcs treated him like a play thing, beating him constantly and punishing him for nothing, had so little effect on him. He screamed, of course, but that was more from terror at what could happen what was happening. Elladan took comfort as he felt his twins' presence around him like a shield.  
  
"May the Valar bless you Elrohir," he whispered again. The moments of rest could not last. A disturbing sound came of the lock to his cage being twisted open and the forlorn elf looked up.  
  
He moaned slightly, and pressed his shoulder blades in to the bars of the cage. It was no use. A large, clawed, knobbly hand grabbed the elf by the neck and dragged him out on to the large flat marble slab that the cage was on. The elf found himself being held down, but there was nothing new there. He braced himself for a beating, but it did not come. Instead, the young elf found himself being handed a bottle full of black liquid. The same liquid Legolas had been forced in to drinking only a little while ago.  
  
"Drink it, elf scum," snarled one of the orcs. Elladan knew better than to resist them by now. The bottle was thrust in to his hands and Elladan tipped the contents down his throat, screwing his eyes tightly against the taste of it. Finishing the liquid, he felt himself grow suddenly weak and the elf collapsed.  
  
As soon as the bottle fell from his hands, rolling off the marble stone and smashing in to little pieces, Elladan felt a whip across his shoulders and he cried out at the sudden, unexpected pain. Again and again the lash came down relentlessly. Unlike Legolas, the orcs gave Elladan no respite. This elf was nothing special. This elf was a toy, nothing more, nothing less.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In the halls of Mirkwood, Elrohir was sitting on a table, swinging his legs gently, his eyes not focused as he concentrated on his twin, so far away. He looked up as he heard his mother approaching. The pretty elven woman smiled gently at him.  
  
"You never did like chairs did you?" she said. Her voice was like a calming music, soothing Elrohir. The elf looked down to at his dangling feet and he slid off the table on to a chair. Lady Celebrian walked over to him and put her arms around him, holding her son in a warm embrace.  
  
"I hear you have upset your adar," she whispered. Elrohir pulled away from her and looked at the window.  
  
"I am sorry naneth," he muttered, "I needed to blame somebody. Elladan hurt so much. I could not stand it, and . . ."  
  
" . . . And so you took it out on Elrond?"  
  
The elf nodded miserably.  
  
"He understands," crooned Celebrian. She wrapped her son up in an embrace again, and this time he welcomed it, snuggling in to the soft pink robes of silk.  
  
"Oh Elrohir," she whispered, "What are we to do with you?"  
  
For a while, neither of them spoke, but then at last Celebrian stood up from the arm of the chair where she had sat down next to her son.  
  
"Mithrandir has just arrived, you know," she murmured, running her fingers through Elrohir's hair. The young son looked up.  
  
"Mithrandir?" he gasped, "Here? Where?"  
  
"He is with Elrond, eating. He has just ridden from the place they call the Shire. Apparently it was not the smoothest journey. He will be going to see Nilwethion and the queen as soon as he has rested. They say she is going mad, the poor dear,"  
  
Elrohir leapt up from the chair and charged off through the door, leaving his mother standing alone in her pink robes, to walk sedately after him. The elf charged through corridors, avoiding servants and guards as he went, nearly knocking over a valuable vase at one point. He burst in to the dinning room and saw, as his naneth had told him, Mithrandir and his father finishing a meal. Mithrandir looked up, his face grim, and then stood up and bowed to Elrohir.  
  
"Greetings, Elrohir," he said. The old wizard had not changed at all since Elrohir had last heard from him three years ago, and the young elf smiled.  
  
"Mithrandir! Naneth said you had come!"  
  
Mithrandir smiled in return and sat back down again.  
  
"Would you care to sit down, Elrohir? Your father has been telling me the terrible news,"  
  
Elrohir took a seat next to Mithrandir and opened his mouth to began talking to his old friend, but the ancient wizard got there first.  
  
"I seem to remember that you always used to sit on the table. Have you grown out of that?"  
  
Elrohir looked down at the chair he was sitting on, and then pulled himself up on to the table.  
  
"Mithrandir, I . . ."  
  
What Elrohir was going to say, however, was never said. Instead, the raven- haired elf's face twisted in agony and he keeled off the table landing with a dull thud on the floor. His face became distorted and he began to writhe, black dots flashing before his eyes, disturbing his vision. The Imladris elf let out an unearthly scream of pure agony, and then screamed again and again and again, his face turning red as he tried to gasp for breath and scream at the same time.  
  
Mithrandir and Elrond stood up in shock, not knowing what to do, or what the cause of the pain was. A couple of guards ran in, confused.  
  
On the floor, Elrohir continued screaming. At last, Mithrandir heard something recognisable through the screams, and, he judged by the way Elrond suddenly turned white, so could Elrond. Elrohir was calling for his twin.  
  
As suddenly as he had begun, Elrohir stopped screaming and lay on the floor, shaking. Elrond and Mithrandir knelt down next to him.  
  
"Elrohir?" whispered the later, "Elrohir, what is it?"  
  
"Elladan is gone," whispered Elrohir, "I cannot feel him. There is nothing. Elladan is . . . Elladan is . . . dead,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
ALLISON ~~ sorry if you don't like how long I take writing, but I only update every Sunday. If I write chapters every day, they get kinda flat.  
  
MAVERIK GIRL ~~ I can't promise you anything, but you'll just have to wait. I suppose I feel sorry for the parents too, but Thranduil really should have got to know his children better, as he said.  
  
JUKIA ~~ yay! Individuality rocks! There are so many stories here that are all the same.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ well I did try to be nice. I did originally try to make this fic funny, but as you see, it didn't quite turn out like that, lol. Unless, that is, you're really sick and twisted. Do I take that as a complement?  
  
DOT ~~ why thank you! The queen IS mad. Well, she is now, at least. I think Elrond understood Elrohir, because he used to have a twin himself, but he lost him because his twin chose a mortal life so yeah, he must understand.  
  
LEXIE ~~ they'll all get out somehow, but whether they'll be okay, well, I'm not promising anything **evil sadistic smirk**  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ thanks!  
  
ORODRUIN ~~ that's the feeling I was trying to get across! Creepy isn't it? Cliffies rule! 


	15. Not Dead, Not Alive

CHAPTER 15 - Not Dead, Not Alive  
  
"Dead?" whispered Elrond as Celebrian rushed in and Mithrandir ushered the guards out of the room.  
  
A small moan escaped Elrohir's lips.  
  
"I . . . I do not know. He is not there,"  
  
Celebrian took hold of her sons' hand gently and stroked his hair, whilst exchanging a petrified glance with her husband. Mithrandir strode back over and knelt down next to them as they pulled the young elf in to a sitting position, leaning his back against the leg of the table.  
  
"What do you mean by, 'he is not there' Elrohir?" asked Mithrandir. Elrohir turned to him with wide, shinning eyes.  
  
"He is not there," the elf whispered, "I can always feel him, sense him. His fëa is always there even if I cannot see him. I know where he is at all times, and I know what he thinks, or if he is in pain," here Elrond and Celebrian blanched, "But now . . . now there is nothing. He is not there,"  
  
He drew his knees up to his chest and hid his head in his arms as a tear trickled down his cheek. Celebrian wrapped her arms around him and made motherly crooning sounds. Mithrandir shook his head.  
  
"I do not know what to do," he muttered. Elrond found himself in the same position. They continued to sit there as Elrohir cried and cried, sobbing pitifully as Celebrian comforted him.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
At last, the pain had left Legolas, and he had dragged himself over to where Oroweth was shackled to the wall, unable to move, and had curled up, leaning against one of his brothers' legs finding comfort as he had done with Thellind. He stared at the great stone wall opposite.  
  
"Have you seen the others?" he asked, eventually.  
  
"I have seen Astaler and Nuryávië, but not Thellind or Elladan," came the reply, as Oroweth looked down at his little brother curled up by his feet. Legolas looked up, his blue eyes shinning brightly with an inner light.  
  
"Thellind will not speak," he muttered, "They brought him in to my cell, though I do not know what they have done to him. He was . . . scared, and he was in a terrible state. There was blood. Lots of blood. He threw the torch on the floor so it went out,"  
  
"Why did he do that?"  
  
"You can hide in the dark,"  
  
Legolas went back to staring at the wall. He shivered. The room was cold, yes, but that was not why he had shivered. The blonde could feel a terrible sense of foreboding, but even worse, he found himself welcoming it. He shivered again. A drop of Oroweth's blood dripped on to his shoulder making Legolas squirm, though he made no attempt to brush it away.  
  
"What did they do to Astaler and Nuryávië?" Legolas asked, after a few moments had past slowly, drawing out like eternity. As the silence began to draw out again, Legolas thought his brother was not going to answer, but at last he did.  
  
"They . . . that is, Neldoreth . . ."  
  
The prince looked up again, but he could not see Oroweth's face. He had turned away, and his dark hair was acting like a blood-matted curtain. A tear splashed on to the floor.  
  
"They dragged us both here, Astaler and I, and they took Nuryávië and Thellind somewhere else. They chained me to the wall and whipped me, as you can see, but did not hurt me so much. You remember they gave you the black liquid?" Legolas nodded and shuddered. Things like that were impossible to forget. "Well they gave us both that. Then they put a heavy black bag over Astalers head and fastened it down by putting an iron collar around his neck, and then beat him until he . . . until he was too weak to react. Then they took him away, and I know not what happened to him after that.  
  
"Soon after that they brought Nuryávië here. They beat me again, though they seemed to favour Nuryávië, as they did with you," Legolas turned his head away in shame. The thought of being favoured by orcs made his skin crawl.  
  
"They gave him a lump of meat though the Valar alone know what it was in life. I would swear it was rotting. Nuryávië could not eat it, so they forced it down his throat. As soon as they let go of him, he threw it all up, so they brought more meat and made him eat that. He almost threw that up as well, but Neldoreth kept his hand clamped over his mouth. Again, they made him drink that disgusting liquid and dragged him out. He was shaking so much it is a wonder he could move. Then they brought in you, and you know what happened next. I would give anything to find out what the liquid was."  
  
When the older prince stopped speaking, there was again silence. Time passed only with the flickering of the light, making shadows dance in the cell.  
  
At last, the door slammed open and Legolas felt his skin crawl with anticipation. Neldoreth, or Urshak, came in dragging Thellind in with him. The silent prince looked up at his brothers and then looked away, hiding his face. He stumbled and fell to his knees.  
  
Legolas made to move forwards, but an over sized orc grabbed hold of him, pinning his arms to his side as the leathery arm wrapped itself around the elf's waist, making sure he could not move.  
  
The prince watched helplessly as the orc captain, once an elf, forced the bottle of liquid down Thellind's throat. As he stood back, letting Thellind curl up on the floor with the pain, still silent, rage bubbled up in Legolas' blood. With a cry, he stamped on the foot of the orc holding him, making the orc loosen his grip, surprised at the sudden retaliation. Taking the advantage, Legolas wriggled free from the huge orc, span around and hit the creature with all the force he could muster, making the creature fall to the floor ungracefully. Grabbing the curved scimitar from its hand, the prince swung the weapon and pierced the heart of the orc, killing it instantly. Black blood flowed, creating rivulets on the floor. As if from far away, Legolas could hear Oroweth cheering. He turned around and leapt across the room, placing himself between Thellind and the remaining orcs, expecting the to try and kill him. He was wrong.  
  
Stepping forwards, Urshak began clapping slowly. The two orcs behind him knelt down on one knee and bowed their heads, in a very un-orc like manner. Legolas froze, unsure what to do.  
  
"Well done, Little Songbird," rasped the captain, "You pass the test. You may keep your elven body. Gurthund! Urblug!"  
  
The two orcs got up from where they were kneeling and prised the scimitar from Legolas' hands without much resistance. Once of them grabbed Legolas' right arm and tore the sleeve at the elbow, ripping it away and throwing it on the floor, and then held the princes' arm out. Drawing a dagger, faster than lighting the orc captain slashed at the prince's forearm, cutting the 'n' rune deep in to the flesh. The orcs let go and the blond elf fell to his knees, clasping at his arm.  
  
The two orcs disappeared out of his vision for a few moments, and then returned with what appeared to be long, black threads. To his right, Legolas heard Oroweth gasp with horror. Looking around, Legolas realised what the black threads were from. The two orcs had scalped the dead orc, and ripped the black threads from the skin. The black threads were hair.  
  
Legolas looked around at the smirking Urshak in shock, and as their eyes met the prince realised what the orc was going to do with the hair. He swayed backwards as the orcs advanced, but it did not help. Urshak ripped out the princes' warrior braids, so recently earned, only three months ago, and the prince stifled a moan of pain. He felt a tugging sensation at the roots of his hair for a few minutes, and then Urshak stepped back, an evil smile on his features. Legolas just stared at him.  
  
Snatching the bloodied scimitar that Legolas had used to kill the large orc, Urshak wiped away the thick black blood, making the blade shine. He held it in front of Legolas, who gasped.  
  
In the reflection, the prince of Mirkwood could saw a face staring back at him, so unlike the face he was used to. His face was white, with not a speck of colour, and his glowing blue eyes seemed much larger than he remembered. His skin seemed to glow slightly, although that could just have been to do with the reflection.  
  
Then he looked at his hair.  
  
His once perfect, shinning gold locks had lost their sheen and seemed to hang about his shoulders in a state akin to dreadlocks. He saw, in the reflection, plaits, but that could not be right, as Urshak had just ripped them out. Then Legolas saw the black hair woven tightly in with the braids and knew what had happened and gasped, covering his mouth with his hands.  
  
"Yes," sneered the orc, "That's right, Little Songbird. You're one of us now,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A pair of guards sat silently in separate trees, not far from the bridge leading to king Thranduil's halls. As usual, the two guards were very bored, as can only be expected from sitting in one place for hours on end, and had begun a game, flirting shamefully at the same time.  
  
One would throw an acorn at the other, and the other would attempt to catch it, and then throw it back. The only problem was that neither was sure who was supposed to be throwing, and who was supposed to be catching, as they were continuously throwing the acorns without waiting for the other to catch any. In this way, many more acorns were being thrown than caught, and the path was littered with the small things.  
  
The two elves were not, therefore, paying attention to the path, and were caught off guard when they heard a throat being cleared below them. They stopped their game instantly and looked down sheepishly, expecting an angry elder or captain. They were wrong.  
  
Standing on the path below, looking up at them was an orc wearing, as it happened, non-orcish clothing. It was dressed in a clean, brown leather tunic and brown leather leggings with a dark belt around its waist and a scimitar at its side. The orc had large, black boots, not unlike those the elves themselves were wearing, and a long, flowing cape flowed from its shoulders. The elves exchanged glances and within less than a second the orc found itself the target of two bows. It held up its hand, palm facing the guards, and bowed.  
  
"What is your business here, orc?" snarled the elf-maiden.  
  
"I have a message for your king and queen concerning the capture of six elves, five of whom are princes, from my captain Urshak," called back the orc. The two elves exchanged glances. The orc was strange, no doubt about it. The male guard dropped down from his branch, keeping his arrows trained between his adversaries' eyes.  
  
"What is the message?" he asked. The orc shrugged his shoulders in the most annoying and aggravating way possible.  
  
"For the ears of the royal couple only, little elf. Your station is too low to merit the knowledge,"  
  
The guards narrowed their eyes dangerously.  
  
"We could kill you now,"  
  
"You could, but then your king and queen will never know what happened. Besides, you would gain nothing from it. I am merely the messenger,"  
  
The elven guard standing opposite the orc gritted his teeth with anger.  
  
"Why should we trust you?" called the elf from her tree. The orc looked up at her, smirking.  
  
"If you do not, the king and queen will never know what happened to their darling babies," mocked the messenger, "So you have a choice. You could kill me, as your partner wishes, or you could trust me,"  
  
"Elves do not trust orcs,"  
  
A smile came to rest on the features of the orc, unnerving the two guards. The guard in the tree shifted her weight and reached out with her senses, trying to work out if the orc was leading them in to some sort of a trap. The forest around her was not silent, but filled only with the usual forest sounds. Nothing else unusual apart from the well-dressed orc.  
  
"Will this do to persuade you?" asked the orc. He drew from inside his cloak an elvish dagger bearing the badge of Thranduil's house on the hilt and perfectly crafted runes going down the blade reading, 'Greenleaf'. The elf in the trees dropped down beside her companion and they exchanged a look.  
  
"Come with us," she commanded.  
  
The orc swaggered between the two, and they closed ranks behind him, keeping their bows trained on him and their senses open, readying themselves for attack.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In the darkness, Nilwethion could hear voices around him. A healer. Naneth. Adar. Calensil. Everything seemed blurred as his mind swam through the darkness. Was he dead? That was what he heard his naneth say, but he did not feel dead.  
  
"Who is Hollinethir?"  
  
The prince heard his adar speak, the first clear voice he had heard in so long. The name rang a bell. Of course! Hollinethir was his sister, as yet unborn. Light began to fill Nilwethion, exploding inside him, bringing back memories. The prince felt warmth around him, and the folds of fabric. The sounds became clearer. There was the smell of candles and flowers.  
  
Prising open his eyes, Nilwethion looked around and the room span.  
  
"What . . . Where . . ." he managed, before the room suddenly went silent.  
  
"Nilly?"  
  
The first voice to break the silence was Calensil, her voice full of disbelief. He turned his head on his pillow and focused on his little sister. He watched her face light up.  
  
"Nilly!" she cried, leaping off the queens' lap and on to the bed, wrapping her arms around Nilwethion's neck. His adar leapt across the room with a couple of strides and sat down on the edge of the bed, his face full of joy and happiness.  
  
From the chair where she sat, the queen screamed and burst in to tears, grabbing hold of Calensil and dragging her away from the bed. Only then did Nilwethion notice that a black veil covered her face. He looked at Thranduil as the queen began to sob.  
  
"My baby," she whispered, "I will not let go of you. I will not loose you like the others!"  
  
"Adar?" gasped the prince, finding his voice, "Adar what is naneth talking about?"  
  
"Nilwethion . . ." began the king, but he was interrupted by his wife's sobs as she almost choked Calensil.  
  
"SILENCE! My son is dead and you do not care!" she cried, and then ran out of the room, carrying Calensil who reached out an arm to Nilwethion. The door slammed shut behind her. Again, silence filled the room. A few moments later, a nervous knock broke the silence and the door was cautiously opened. The head of a guard poked nervously around, and the guard entered the room.  
  
"My king, there is a messenger with news of your sons," he muttered, "It is an orc. We have him in the throne room. He says his message is for your ears alone,"  
  
The king nodded and looked down at Nilwethion.  
  
"I will be back soon," he said, and made to leave.  
  
"Adar?" called the prince, "What is going on?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: **cackle** Hmm, I'm proud of this chapter. I did have something to say, but I can't remember what it was, so I won't say it.  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
MAVERIK GIRL ~~ you think I'm torturing YOU? Pity the elves! Nah, you're right. I couldn't kill off two of my favourite characters in such a short space of time.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ very pretty song, but I don't usually put songs in to my fics. When I find them in other fics I usually skip over them, so I guessed that other people would do the same if I put them in my fics. Also, if I did end up putting one in it would be one of Tolkiens. No offence of course, as it was such a pretty song.  
  
DOT ~~ Hehe. Thanks. Mithrandir won't do much yet, but he will have a bigger part later on.  
  
LEXIE ~~ Thanks so much!  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ Now that would be telling. I will give away that at least two people die though. You'll just have to wait to find out to see who it is,  
  
ORODRUIN ~~ Oh wow! Thanks so much! They didn't really have to be hard on one for the other to feel the pain, but yes they were very hard on the poor elf. Yes, they are princes in a way, however that doesn't bother the orcs. The orcs are only treating the Mirkwood princes the way they are because Urshak/Neldoreth is completely twisted and wants his little bro's on his side.  
  
TAMARA ~~ no, he isn't dead. Besides, he's in Tolkiens books so I couldn't kill him off, even if I wanted to.  
  
LEGAWIEN ~~ you'd better start believing then, lol. 


	16. Treachery

CHAPTER 16 - Treachery  
  
The prince stared at his reflection silently. The creature staring back at him was so unlike any version of himself Legolas could ever have imagined.  
  
He was dressed in brown leather leggings that clung to his skin, and a dark tunic, made of the same material as the leggings. Around his shoulders hung a long black cape, trailing down to the floor. His blond tresses, still not brushed and raster like with the hair of the dead orc woven in to the plaits, pulled viciously back so that half his hair was in a ponytail and the other half hung loosely in the style of an orc. By his side was a long scimitar, the same as those the orcs bore.  
  
Urshak put an arm around his youngest brother and grinned widely.  
  
"Just like me," he laughed, "An' I'll make sure yew think like me too. Whaddaya think of Thranduil?"  
  
Legolas turned to look at the orc.  
  
"He is a great and wise king," said the prince.  
  
"Same answer as yer two brothers then. Thought as much. Whadaya think of him as a daddy?"  
  
The young prince opened his mouth to answer, and then shut it again. Memories of all the times he had been punished came flooding back, unsummoned. The lectures. The angry red face about to burst a blood vessel. The raised voice. Now came back the memories of all the times something had been forbidden to him, like watching Oroweth and Astaler ride out on hunting parties and with the warriors when he was refused the privalige. All the times Thranduil had hidden something from himself and his siblings came back.  
  
"No answer?"  
  
Legolas looked away, newly angry with the king but ashamed at himself for thinking as he was.  
  
The orc captain grin widened, his rotten fangs showing. He nodded, satisfied.  
  
"Took me a while to realise he was the enemy too,"  
  
"My father is not the enemy!"  
  
"No? Sent any search parties after yew? Nope. Still got two left hasn't he? Course, it ain't their fault. They'll be with us soon. Cute ain't she, you little sister?"  
  
Legolas swallowed, thinking about Nilwethion and Calensil. When was the last time he had thought of them? Too long. Again the prince felt ashamed of himself. He looked back up at the bronze mirror.  
  
"I suppose yew'll be wanting to see yer brothers then?"  
  
The elf nodded.  
  
"They've seen the light too, y'know. Or the dark, depending on how yew see it," he laughed loudly, and Legolas found himself, much to his disgust, understanding the joke and finding it funny, in a twisted sort of way. Two orcs who had been standing by a large iron door pulled it open and bowed.  
  
"Through 'ere," said one, and then hastily added, "Sir,"  
  
"That's Girshund. 'E's a young 'un. Gonna take a bit o' getting used to having an elf cap'n," commented Urshak as the two passed through the door. Legolas shivered as he remembered his rank and looked back at the yellow eyes of the two staring orcs.  
  
"Legolas!" The prince snapped his head around as he recognised the voice of Astaler.  
  
Astaler and Nuryávië were lounging in a long room on two plain, iron beds covered with a few sheets and straw mattresses. In a second, the two princes had leapt over to their younger brother and wrapped him up quickly in an embrace. They bowed quickly to Urshak, and then pulled their attention back to Legolas.  
  
"We are so glad you have joined us!"  
  
"We thought you were going to pick the hard way!"  
  
Legolas looked at his two brothers strangely, as if for the first time, and saw Astaler and Nuryávië in a new light.  
  
They were both clad in exactly the same clothes as he was, their hair styled in the same way and the same weapons hung menacingly at their sides, though there was something different about them. Something altogether too, well, evil.  
  
"I'll be leavin' yew to talk for an hour, but don't expect to get any longer 'n that. I've got a mission for yew. Shame yer brothers' chose the hard route, but that's their fault. I'll be seeing yew later,"  
  
Astaler and Nuryávië bowed to Urshak as the orc left the room, shutting the door behind them. Legolas turned back to the two brothers.  
  
"You . . .you have embraced the shadows?"  
  
"No!" hissed Astaler, "Keep quiet, else they may hear us. Of course not you fool, although I do not know what to think of adar any more. I think I hate him, although I know I should not. We both do, though we are not evil like Neldoreth has become. We are only pretending to have changed sides. It may be our only hope of escape."  
  
Legolas breathed a sigh of relief, feeling slightly foolish that he had ever doubted his brothers. He flopped down on to one of the hard beds.  
  
"At least there is lots of light in here," he laughed. The other two sat down next to him.  
  
"At least," agreed Nuryávië, "Did you know we are allowed to go wherever we please now that we are 'captains'?"  
  
"We are?" gasped Legolas, "So Neldoreth trusts us that much?"  
  
The prince shrugged.  
  
"I suppose so. Have you seen all the . . .uh . . .art, on the walls?"  
  
Legolas winced and nodded. Memory of the blood and bones and charcoal hanging from the walls like the tapestries in the halls of Thranduil flashed in front of his eyes.  
  
"Shall we explore?" he asked, "Strange that we should be taken prisoner by our kin, and then given high ranks in the army of the enemy. Imagine if naneth and adar could see us now - and Nilwethion and Calensil. I hope they are alright,"  
  
"They will be better off than we are," said Astaler, "Come, you wanted to explore,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The king of Mirkwood was sitting bolt upright in his great throne, his wife on one side with Calensil held firmly on her knee and Nilwethion on his other side, still not completely understanding the situation. On his lap were various tokens from the orc. Legolas' dagger, Oroweth's broach from his cloak, Astalers cloak, rich with embroidery, and a couple of other small items. Around them were various counsellors and lords, including Elrond with others from Imladris and Mithrandir. On one arm of Nilwethion's throne sat Elrohir. They were all looking in the same direction - at the orc messenger before them with the two guards at his side, swords pointed at him. The orc bowed low.  
  
"King Thranduil of Mirkwood," he began, "I bear a message from captain Urshak of the more hidden realm of Mirkwood."  
  
The orc licked his lips, savouring the sour look on the face of the king.  
  
"How dare you step foot in my halls?" hissed the king  
  
The orc tutted.  
  
"How polite you are, oh great king," his voice was mocking and sarcastic, "I much prefer your sons. Quite pleasant as elves go, when we let them stop screaming,"  
  
Thranduil dug his fingernails in to the arms of his chair, his knuckles white. Beside him, his wife seemed confused and upset, clutching Calensil to her so tightly the princess could hardly breathe. On his other side, Nilwethion was grasping a dagger. The king glared a quick warning at his son, telling him without words not to harm the orc until the message was finished.  
  
"What have you done to my sons?" hissed the king. The orc laughed.  
  
"Oh I do not think daddy would like to know that. Perhaps it will be enough for him to know that they all hate you bitterly. They have come to believe that you do not care about them. They think you have deserted them in their hour of need. Needless to say, that is one of the reasons they cry out so much, even when we are not having our fun with them,"  
  
"You lie!"  
  
King Thranduil stood up, his face bright red, his deep maroon robes trimmed with gold crumpled but still imposing. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, desperately trying not to believe a word the orc was saying.  
  
"I do not lie. I would offer for you to see them, but it would most likely kill a loving father. If you really are as loving of them as you are of yourself,"  
  
"Why you . . ."  
  
"But that is not the message. What was it now?"  
  
The orc rubbed his temples, pretending to think. He flashed an evil grin sideways at one of the guards, who then scowled and jabbed the orc with his sword. The orc jumped back slightly in to the sword of the other guard. A spot of black blood appeared and the orc clicked his fingers.  
  
"Why thank you for reminding me, little elfling!" cried the orc. His eyes narrowed maliciously. "We are in the process of giving the princes a meaning to life," he stopped abruptly.  
  
"A meaning?" asked Nilwethion, light glancing off his dagger.  
  
"Yes, little elfling, a meaning. Your dearest brothers will, after a few years, become very good officers in our army. Perfect little orcs. As will you, when we get our hands on you. Your sister also, perhaps. Although perhaps we will use her for something else. If I were the king, I would not let you out of these caves."  
  
Nilwethion sprang up with his dagger raised to kill the orc, but Elrohir grabbed hold of his arms and dragged the prince back. The orcs eyes widened with glee when he looked at the Imladris elf struggling to get Nilwethion back under control.  
  
"How did you escape after what we did to you, and with not a scratch?" he questioned, "Perhaps we ought to have kept you as an orc, not just a plaything . . . but wait . . ."  
  
Elrohir and Nilwethion looked up from their struggle, realising the orc meant Elladan.  
  
"You could not possibly have escaped. Not after our boys finished playing. I doubt they are finished yet. Not a moment of peace for our little toy. That must mean you are . . . Elrohir? Yes, the twin. Our toy cries out your name at such frequent intervals you would think he were a lover. Perhaps all elves are like you. From what I see of them, I would not know. All I know is that your lover twin is just as weak as any one of the princes, the silly, helpless little fools."  
  
Elrohir's face contorted with pure anger and rage. He let go of Nilwethion, vaguely aware of the prince running along side him to kill the orc, but they was not the first to reach the it.  
  
For the whole time, the queen Imlammthien had sat silently, holding Calensil tightly on her knee, but something within her had cracked. She flew at the orc, screaming wildly, knocking him over. The queen had thrown Calensil off her knee, the young princess wailing loudly as she was flung in to one of the nearby elves, but she did not take notice. Instead, Imlammthien knocked the messenger from Urshak over and began tearing at his face, arms and torso with her carefully looked after nails, ripping at his skin until the vile creature began yelling loudly.  
  
By then, Elrohir and Nilwethion had got to the orc, their weapons drawn. As the two guards desperately pulled the queen away from the creature, the two took her place, only instead of using nails they used their daggers, treating the orc like a pincushion until black blood stained the floor, cascading down steps and seeping through nooks and crevices.  
  
"Are you not going to stop them, my king? The orc is as dead as any creature can possibly be," whispered Captain Silnan. The king stood watching the two young elven friends as more and more blood stained their skin and clothes.  
  
"No. They seem to be having fun," he muttered back, his face passive, "What shall we do with the body? Throw it to the wolves?"  
  
A small arm curled around his leg and the king looked down in to the wide- eyed, tearful face of his daughter. She blinked back tears as the king picked her up.  
  
"Ada, was the orc telling the truth?" she whispered  
  
"No," came the reply  
  
"So you have not deserted them?"  
  
"No,"  
  
"Can I go and play with Nilly and Elrohir and the orc?" she asked sweetly  
  
"No,"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
The king thought about it, and then he thought about it a little more. Looking up, he saw that the two elves had still not slowed down with their relentless attack upon the body of the orc. He looked down again at his daughter and sighed. She must take after Imlammthien more than he had previously realised, as the same blood thirsty, warrior-like streak was now coming to the surface. He put the princess down and gave a slight push in the direction of the orc. Giggling slightly, the princes ran over to her brother, curtseyed to one of the guards before taking a dagger from his belt, and began violently mutilating the orc. The king sighed.  
  
"I hope very much that the orc was lying," came a voice beside him. Thranduil looked around to see Elrond standing next to him, his jaw set and looking grim, "I doubt any of us would last long against your children should they turn against us."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Astaler, Nuryávië and Legolas had been walking along tunnels for an hour. Some wide and some narrow, some high ceilings and some low ceilings, some almost pitch black and others flickering red. Some had smoother bones on the floor than others - clearly the more used ones - and the three princes had passed many more versions of orcish art. They had now somehow found their way to the large main chamber they had first been pushed in to so long ago. The orcs were still scurrying about, tending to their business, though now when they passed the elves they bowed low before carrying on.  
  
"Look!" gasped Astaler suddenly, pointing to a cage on a rock in the middle of the room with a figure huddled up inside it.  
  
"Elladan!" moaned Legolas, "What have they done to him?"  
  
Before the three of them had the chance to go over to their friend, a clawed hand squeezed Legolas' shoulder. Spinning around, the princes found themselves face to face with Urshak again.  
  
"I see ye'v made yourselves familiar with our city," he said, "So now I suppose ye'll be wanting to know what yer mission is?"  
  
Glancing at each other, the princes nodded.  
  
"Right. We're gonna be sending yew back to yer king. Yew'r gonna kill him and the queen, then come back. Yer also gonna make sure than we get hold of Nilwethion and Calensil. Yeah, yeah, I know their names. We've been spyin' on ya for years. We're givin' ya four weeks before ya have to come back here. If ya don't get it right, we kill elfy up there in that cage. Understand?"  
  
Again, the princes nodded.  
  
"Are we going like this?" asked Legolas, remembering his new clothes and hair.  
  
"Course y'are. If ya don't one of the lookouts would probly think yew were on the wrong side and kill ya!"  
  
"Do we go now?" asked Astaler  
  
"Yeah. We ain't givin' ya food, as you're gonna tell yer elfy friends some story about being forced in to being evil and escaping by the skin o' your teeth. Tell 'em ya all escaped, but got split up 'coz we were chasing' ya, and thought that the other three had got back fine. Right, off ya go. Remember, four weeks! Oh, and if ya still don't believe I'm ya brother, my bedroom used to be a large room on the third floor. Sixth room along from the staircase on ya right. It'll probably still be there, or at least the room will."  
  
Without needing to be told twice, the three princes stalked off up the passage leading to the entrance to the huge lair of the orcs. At the top of the passageway, three orcs were waiting for them and pushed the huge boulder out of the way.  
  
As the princes ducked out of the narrow tunnel to the salutes of the orcs, the sunlight hit them in the eyes, almost blinding them.  
  
"Ow," muttered Legolas, shielding his eyes from the bright light, "Quick, under the cover of the trees. I wish the sun were not so bright. It gives me a headache!"  
  
His brothers muttered in agreement and they fled underneath the canopy of the nearby trees. Looking around them, the princes gasped in the fresh air and took in all the sights and sounds of the forest they thought that they would never see again. Nuryávië laughed and spun around in a circle, looking upwards, his arms spread out, and then fell down, his head spinning.  
  
"It is so good to be free!" whispered Astaler, aware that there were probably orcs still watching them, "Though we ought to be going back to the kings' halls as soon as we can. We should get this over and done with."  
  
As soon as Nuryávië stumbled up to his feet, the princes, loving their new freedom, ran off in to the forest silently in the direction of Thranduil's halls, not worrying about their task, only savouring freedom.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
~C~ ~~ Lol. Yes, the queen is going completely insane. Poor elf.  
  
LEXIE ~~ Thanks. As I said to ~C~ the queen is still going insane, but will soon have completely lost it.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ are you reading Cassia's latest one? With the horse thieves? She is such a good writer! There is no such thing as too much elf torture.  
  
MAVERICK GIRL ~~ Well to be fair, she didn't know that all her sons were alive. The other princes, as you can see, are now fine. I would hate to be in their position though.  
  
SWEET-N-SOUR SLYTHERIN ~~ you didn't say you hated cliffies, but you have now. No, I'm not kidding you and yes I am evil, thanks for the compliment **grins** Does that mean that you were thinking about crying? If so wow, I didn't think I was that good at writing!  
  
I know I haven't done it for a while, but all my wonderful reviewers get a lovely big cookie each. Thank you everyone! Now that you've read this chapter, please click the little box in the corner of the screen and leave me a review. Even if it's completely blank! I don't really mind. 


	17. Coming Home

Chapter 17 - COMING HOME  
  
The moon gazed down on the halls of Mirkwood's King, watching with interest as three dark, cloaked figures nimbly clambered up a wall covered in ivy and clambered in through a window. As they drew off their cloaks, they disappeared out of sight of the moon. A muffled cry came from the brightly lit room, but then stopped as sharply as it began.  
  
"Nilwethion you fool! Ssh! It is only us!"  
  
Legolas removed the blanket he had thrown over his brothers' head when the prince had cried out. Nilwethion looked at his three brothers in shock, his mouth gaping open. After a pause a few seconds, Legolas laughed.  
  
"You ought to see yourself," he whispered, "You look as though you have seen a ghost!"  
  
Words finally came to the astonished prince as Astaler and Nuryávië began walking around his room, taking in the robes and tunics scattered across the floor, the papers on the desk and the sharp, shinning elvish dagger and sword resting against a chair as if they had never seen anything like it before.  
  
"You . . . you are . . . I thought . . ."  
  
Legolas tilted his head, expecting a full sentence, but nothing came. Instead, he found himself being almost smothered in an embrace as Nilwethion leapt across the room and flung his arms around the lost younger brother with relief.  
  
"I feared the worst! But Legolas . . . your clothes. You are dressed like an orc! Where is your tunic?"  
  
The prince shrugged and looked down at the filthy attire given to him by Urshak. As he caught sight of himself in the large mirror gracing Nilwethion's dressing table he gasped. In the dungeon like rooms of the Mirkwood mountains, his filthy, blood matted, pale reflection with the dull white skin and tangled hair had seemed almost normal. Now his reflection stared back at him like a ghost, out of place in the clean and beautiful world of the elves. Legolas ripped away his orcish leather and cape, leaving them lying on the floor, and pulled one of Nilwethion's tunics over his head. Looking back at the mirror, he still looked just as out of place. Almost as though he was no longer Legolas of Mirkwood.  
  
Hearing laughter from behind him, he looked around to see Astaler holding the silver dagger that had been resting by the chair. As he watched, Astaler pressed his finger against the sharp blade, like a curious child. A drop of blood spilled through the sudden cut and splashed on the floor. Black blood. Beside Legolas, Nilwethion gasped loudly. Astaler made another cut on his finger, as if to see what colour the blood would be. Again, the blood that dripped to the floor was black.  
  
"Astaler, stop playing with the dagger," muttered Nuryávië from the other side of the room, "I wish to see if Urshak was telling the truth about Neldoreth."  
  
The three princes so recently let free from captivity opened the door and peered along the corridor, as if checking to make sure nobody else was there. They slipped through the open door and Nilwethion stumbled after them, looking back at the black drops of blood on his floor.  
  
"Where are we going?" he asked  
  
"This is the third floor," said Nuryávië. Nilwethion nodded  
  
"Yes, but you know that,"  
  
He watched as the three princes counted the doors, and then opened one, seemingly at random. Next to the door was a large tapestry of a woodland party scene, stretching along the wall of the corridor. Nuryávië sighed with relief and shut the door again.  
  
"He was lying then," he smiled, "To think I believed an orc!"  
  
He and Legolas let out relieved laughs as Nilwethion looked from one to the other.  
  
"Lying? What . . .? Who . . .?" again, the confused prince finished none of his questions. Everything suddenly seemed to be happening so fast. Only a few days ago he had killed the orc for saying his brothers were weak, and that they would be fine captains for the shadows, but now here they were, having clambered through his window in the attire of orc captains, telling him nothing and apparently believing orcs. As he opened his mouth to ask a question, Astaler interrupted him.  
  
"Wait," he said  
  
The other two stopped laughing as Astaler grabbed hold of the tapestry and pulled it, making it come crumpling down at his feet. Behind the centre of where the tapestry had hung was an ornate door with fancy hinges and a fancy door handle. They all gasped.  
  
"Nilwethion, open the door and tell us what is inside," ordered Legolas, his voice suddenly quiet.  
  
Nilwethion picked his way over the folds of fabric and pushed open the door. As he opened it, the ancient hinges creaked loudly.  
  
"It is a large room," he called back, "There seems to be furniture in here, but it is all covered on white sheets. There are so many layers of dust!"  
  
He took a step in to the room, followed by Legolas, Astaler and Nuryávië. Even the floor had a huge dustsheet over it. With a flurry of movement and dust, Legolas whisked away one of the sheets, revealing a dressing table almost exactly the same as his own. The mirror stood framed with gold and silver leaves, the glass as clear and cleaned as though it had only been polished that morning. A brush and comb lay where they had been left, thrown haphazardly down, strands of black hair still stuck to the bristles. Next to them a small hand mirror lay, even though there was a large looking glass. It was face down on the table, half covered by a pair of gloves.  
  
Moving aside the gloves, Legolas picked up the mirror. On the age old silver read the inscription, "To My Darling Prince Neldoreth Of Mirkwood, With Much Love, Culaeariel"  
  
Legolas flung the mirror across the room, anger boiling up in his blood. The glass smashed as it hit a wall. He turned around to his siblings. Now there was no avoiding the fact. Urshak had been telling the truth. There were not six princes of Mirkwood, but seven.  
  
"I cannot believe they kept this hidden from us!" he cried. The blonde turned around and thumped the wall with all his might. Astaler, Nuryávië and Nilwethion began to rip away more dustsheets revealing more and more evidence of their lost brother. Nilwethion shook his head in disbelief.  
  
"This room could belong to any one of us," he whispered, "It looks as though it could still be lived in, though how long has that tapestry hidden it?"  
  
"Longer than I can remember," hissed Astaler, his voice low and guttural. As Nilwethion watched, his brothers seemed to change, becoming dark and angry in a way he had never seen them before. Their eyes became almost black with a burning hatred and their pale skin seemed to glow slightly as though they were ghosts. Turning around they strode out of the room, leaving Nilwethion to collapse on to the floor trying to make sense of his world as it fell down around him, tears pouring silently from his eyes.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A few floors down from where Nilwethion was curled up sobbing, King Thranduil sat in his throne, head in his hands. His beloved wife was still insisting her children were all dead, now believing Calensil to have left her, and was locked away in one of their chambers to save her from hurting herself or others. The healers had recently declared that she was insane. Nilwethion had become withdrawn, spending much of his time with Elrohir, although now the Imladris elf was with his parents in the garden. It was weeks since he had seen his other children, though it seemed longer. Months or years, the time had little meaning any more. Calensil sat on his knee silently. She was still covered in orc blood, as se had refused to wash after the day the orc had entered his halls, bringing dark tidings of his children.  
  
Suddenly he heard doors banging. Lifting his head, he signalled to a guard to go and see what the cause of the disturbance was, but within moments the doors to the hall crashed open revealing Astaler, Nuryávië and Legolas. His heart lit up with joy and he jumped up from his throne, happiness carved on to his features. Calensil ran across the rooms, throwing herself in to their arms with a cry of joy.  
  
"My sons!" he cried, "My sons have returned!"  
  
He leapt across the room following in his daughters' footsteps, ready to embrace them, but the princes stepped back from him. It was then that the king saw the smouldering anger in their strangely dark eyes and their looks of hatred. He paused, unsure what to do.  
  
"You never told us," growled Legolas  
  
"Never told you what?" his voice was almost a whisper, hoping desperately that the young prince was playing some sort of trick on him.  
  
"Neldoreth," replied Astaler.  
  
The court froze. Elves standing around the room held their breath. Those old enough to remember Neldoreth gaped, memories flooding back to them after centuries of being hidden. Those too young to know who Neldoreth was, looked around, confused, but said nothing, the tenseness in the room pressing down on them. After what seemed like forever, the king spoke again.  
  
"Neldoreth?"  
  
"Yes, King Thranduil, Neldoreth. You ought to know him. Does the name mean nothing to you?"  
  
Again, the king repeated the name, his voice weak. Legolas rolled his eyes.  
  
"The name seems strange to you. Would you like us to refresh your memory?"  
  
Thranduil opened his mouth, but nothing came out except a small, scared squeak. From Legolas' arms, Calensil looked around, confused. She clutched at his tunic, hoping to find comfort, but something was different about her beloved brother, and she did not like it. For the first time, there was no comfort in his arms. Astaler took over from Legolas, his harsh words stinging the king like whips.  
  
"Neldoreth was your son, Thranduil of Mirkwood. The eldest. The crowned prince. He was sent out on a mission one day with a group of warriors and was captured by orcs. The orcs took him away to their lair where they beat him and tortured him for years before he finally became as twisted and evil as them. He waited to be rescued. Every night he prayed to the Valar that you would come and take him home, but you never did. You did not care anymore because the Queen was due with another child to take his place. Neldoreth was no longer needed, so he forsook the light and embraced the shadows. He began to detest his father, cursing him in the dark, wishing to kill the one who betrayed him. You. You betrayed our brother. He worked his way up to being a captain of the orcs. A true leader, training his orcs in the most effective ways possible. Elvish ways. Then, he began to hear rumours of the children of the king. His siblings, if you will. He wanted us to be on his side so desperately, king Thranduil. Did you know that? He did not want to hurt us, but to turn us in to great captains of his orcs so that we could rule them along side him. He still hates you. So do we, king of Mirkwood. You lied to us. You kept so many secrets from us, but still pretended to love us! You abandoned us though. Neldoreth told us. You sent nobody out looking for us, just as you did with him. You abandoned us, leaving us for dead. We hate you, king of Mirkwood. We hate you more than we can possibly say!"  
  
As Astaler spoke, the king, though immortal, seemed to age beyond possible for elvish years. He lifted his hand to the princes, a tear forming in the corner of his eye, but they backed away from him.  
  
"Astaler . . .?"  
  
"Do not speak to me!" cried the prince, "Stay away from us!"  
  
"Nuryávië . . .?"  
  
The prince turned his head away from the king.  
  
"Legolas . . .?"  
  
The young prince stared at his father with intense hatred, still clutching Calensil in his arms.  
  
"We found the room behind the tapestry, Thranduil. You did not think you could hide it forever did you? Nilwethion knows,"  
  
"My children, you do not understand . . ." the voice of the king was broken and almost inaudible, but the three princes before him did not care. Even Calensil did not seem to be able to listen to him. Nuryávië cut across Thranduil angrily, his voice bitter. As he spoke, he drew the scimitar from its sheath at his side. Astaler mirrored his movements.  
  
"Do not call us your children!" he cried, "We want nothing more to do with you!"  
  
Then, in a swift movement, he dragged the scimitar across the palm of his hands to the gasps of the watching elves. Black flood flowed from the deep cut, covering his palm and dripping to the floor. Thranduil's mouth dropped open in horror. Beside Nuryávië, Astaler made a slit in his own hand to the same effect.  
  
"I cannot do it," whispered Nuryávië, "I hate him, but I cannot do it,"  
  
With that the princes turned and fled the room, Legolas still holding Calensil. As the king watched them running away from him, his heart breaking, Calensil looked over Legolas' shoulder and hissed at him, baring her teeth.  
  
As soon as they disappeared, the king collapsed against the wall and wept.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Yet another dramatic chapter! I know the Imladris elves, Mithrandir and the elves still prisoners of the orcs will be back again next chapter, but all the energy of this chapter had to be concentrated on these three princes and the king or it probably wouldn't have worked. By the way, this chapter happens a couple of days after the last one, just incise anyone got confused.  
  
Also, extreem apologies concerning the amount of time it took to get this chapter up and running. There were loads of problems getting the chapter uploaded, and it has taken me about a week to get it uploaded and fixed.  
  
MAVERICK GIRL ~~ I feel bad for them too, but at the moment I feel worse for the king.  
  
LEENA TOROS ~~ you can see what they did, and it wasn't very nice for either side, but no, they didn't have any wax in their ears. They heard Urshak fine.  
  
TAMARA ~~ of course they care about Thellind and Oroweth! You're lucky they didn't hear you asking that! They just have so much stuff that's happening at the moment they aren't really getting time to think.  
  
JUKIA WOLFCALL ~~ I'm not actually sure where the inspiration came from, it just came. I think I would get on very well with your muse.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ I see your point. Is the story being insane a good thing or a bad thing? I have a "to kill" list too! It includes Jerry the mouse (Tom 'n' Jerry), Harry Potter (stuck up brat!), Tweety Pie and Scrappy Doo.  
  
SONY ~~ well in all honesty, I'm not sure how to get out of this one either. I'm still working on it, so any plot bunnies would be welcomed!  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ even though you probably won't get to read this, have a nice holiday!  
  
PHEROWEN ~~ cute. Yes. I see you haven't read the more recent chapters yet.  
  
LEXIE ~~ Why thank you!  
  
PIRATE-CHICHA ~~ lol. Thank you very much! S.N.S.S.? I'm afraid that one thing these orcs aren't, is stupid. They don't think they've embraced the darkside, at least.  
  
EBONY FALCON ~~ I think that right now the game of dares has been forgotten. They're concentrating a litte bit more on getting out of this situation alive. However, that is a very sweet little plot bunny that just hopped out of your arms. Maybe. Who's side though do you think is playing traitor though? The princes or the king? 


	18. Shadow of Doubt

CHAPTER 18 - Shadow Of Doubt  
  
They were sitting in Astaler's bedroom in a small circle on the floor in silence. Legolas felt that he ought to be happy, but a crushing sense of doom was weighing him down. The task set by Urshak was haunting him, making him terrified. He looked at Nilwethion whose eyes were red and swelled with salty tears, and then at Calensil sitting in his lap, her arms around him in a search for comfort, for once in her life saying nothing and sitting as still as a statue. He thought of what was planned for them and winced, looking away.  
  
The door opened slowly, revealing a dark haired elf with wide eyes. Elrohir. He slipped in through the small crack in the door and sat down in between Astaler and Legolas.  
  
"You escaped!" his voice was low and filled with awe.  
  
The three princes nodded.  
  
"Is . . . Did Elladan? Is he alive?"  
  
"He is alive, but we could not help him," mumbled Astaler, fixing his gaze on a point in the middle of the small circle, "We know not what the orcs have done to him,"  
  
Elrohir stiffened and drew his knees up, resting his chin on them.  
  
"Then how did you escape?"  
  
Legolas caught Nuryavie's sharp glance, warning him to keep his mouth shut. The three stared at each other, trying not to burst.  
  
"Legolas, you are shaking," said Calensil. Her small hand was now resting on his arm, her pale brow furrowed. She looked up at him with large blur eyes. Legolas looked away, furious with himself.  
  
"How did you get away?" the question was repeated, but this time by Nilwethion. His voice was curious as he fiddled with the cuff on his sleeve.  
  
"I . . . I cannot tell you," whispered Legolas. Inside his chest, his heart broke when he looked up at his brother. His face was filled with emotions, clearly upset that Legolas was keeping a secret.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Never ask that again!" Nilwethion fell back as Astaler snapped his head around, suddenly angry. His fists were clenched tightly and he, like Legolas, had begun to shake, though more violently than his younger sibling. Suddenly he gasped with pain and hid his head in his hands. The prince began to rock backwards and forwards and let out a dull moan. When Nilwethion tentatively put his hand on his brothers' back, the elf looked up. Nilwethion sprang back, leaping up to his feet. Astaler snarled viciously, making Elrohir jump up on his feet next to Nilwethion before the pair darted out of the door. Calensil let out a petrified squeak as she saw what the other two had seen and scrabbled to get up, but Legolas held her firmly in his arms, a dark realisation flooding over him.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Nilwethion and Elrohir ran down corridor after corridor with their hair flying wildly behind them until they burst in to the throne room. Scanning the room quickly they could not find whom they were looking for and were about to run off again when a voice hailed them.  
  
"Nilwethion? My son?" a weak, distraught voice made them turn around again. The two young elves saw Thranduil looking at his son, his face hollow and hopeless.  
  
"Yes adar?"  
  
A small smile crept across the kings' face.  
  
"Have you also forsaken me?"  
  
"No adar, of course I have not. I am not possessed. Have you seen Mithrandir?"  
  
Thranduil nodded and his crown of berries fell over his eyes. He pushed it back up again.  
  
"In the gardens with Elrond and Celebrian," he replied  
  
Nilwethion nodded his thanks and the two young elves turned around and ran off again, heading for the gardens. Thranduil stared after them for a moment filled with a bittersweet happiness before he realised what his son had actually said.  
  
"Possessed?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Walking slowly through the gardens of Mirkwood's king, two worried elves spoke softly with an ancient wizard wearing a tall, pointed grey hat. As their silver robes swished gently, they noticed lightly thudding feet approaching. The trio turned around to see Elrohir and Nilwethion running up. They waited patiently until the two elves reached them, but were surprised when neither stopped to speak, but grabbed Mithrandir's sleeve and began pulling him back the way they had just come.  
  
"Stop!" commended the wizard. The two elves stopped pulling him along, but became restless and twitchy.  
  
"What is this about?" asked the aged wizard, looking at the two elves sternly.  
  
"Mithrandir, you have to come quickly!" begged Nilwethion, "Astaler is possessed!"  
  
"Possessed?"  
  
The young prince began jiggling up and down, clearly desperate to get back to the palace.  
  
"His eyes . . . they were red. He was so angry . . . what . . ."  
  
The grey pilgrim held up a hand and Nilwethion closed his mouth, but began chewing on the long sleeve of his green tunic. His blue eyes were wide and desperate.  
  
"What is this tale?" asked the wizard, "Begin at the beginning,"  
  
The prince swallowed and took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.  
  
"We were sitting in Astaler's room, and then Elrohir and I asked how they escaped. First time they said they could not tell us, and then when we asked why Astaler became angry. Suddenly he just put his head in his hands and started rocking backwards and forwards. When he looked up, his eyes were glowing red and he snarled at us. That was not the Astaler I know!"  
  
"Could his eyes not have been reflecting the firelight?" asked Lady Celebrian. Her arm was linked with Elronds, the long silver sleeves seeming to mingle with his. Her eyes showed nothing but honest hope. Elrohir shook his head.  
  
"Nay naneth, there was no fire lit, nor were there candles. The only light came from the stars through the window,"  
  
"Why?"  
  
The simple question seemed to confuse the two young elves. They looked at each other, slightly confused.  
  
"I think," said Nilwethion hesitantly, "I think Legolas said something about the darkness hiding you,"  
  
The three older companions exchanged worried glances. Mithrandir's face grew grey as the moonlight bounced of his old skin, revealing the wrinkles grown in his sudden worry.  
  
"Why should he want to be hidden?"  
  
"We do not know,"  
  
"Lead the way,"  
  
As Nilwethion and Elrohir turned around to run back to the room the three princes and their sister were in, an arrow thudded in to the ground by the feet of the young prince. Nilwethion stumbled and tripped, unprepared. He grabbed the arrow and pulled it out of the soil as Elrohir, Mithrandir and the lord and lady of Imladris ran to him. He looked up at them.  
  
"Twenty four days? What does that mean Mithrandir?"  
  
The wizened Maiar grabbed the arrow from the prince. Carved in to the thick wood was a message saying only "twenty four days". He turned the arrow over and over in his hands before giving it back to the prince sitting on the ground. Nilwethion took the arrow and pulled himself up.  
  
"Perhaps we ought to ask your brothers," he said in a low voice, "Lord Elrond, would you kindly go and tell King Thranduil about this occurrence. I find myself wondering how the archer got past his guards, as I am sure he will,"  
  
As the lord and lady of Imladris hurried quickly in one direction, Mithrandir disappeared off after Nilwethion and Elrohir  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Legolas looked up as the doors swung open revealing Mithrandir, Nilwethion and Elrohir. Mithrandir looked around at the darkness and whispered something to the large wooden staff in his hand. The top of the staff lit up, sending a bright light around the room. In the sudden white light, Legolas blanched and screwed his eyes shut, turning his head away. Nuryávië, he noticed, did the same. Astaler was lying on his bed, unconscious. Calensil, however, bounded towards Nilwethion and wrapped her arms around him.  
  
"Prince Nuryávië, prince Legolas, you hide from the light," the prince heard Mithrandir say.  
  
"It hurts our eyes," said Nuryávië. Legolas opened his eyes, but shielded them from the light with a hand. Mithrandir raised a hairy eyebrow, but strode over to the bed where Astaler was lying.  
  
"I have heard a dark rumour, my dear princes. Do you know what this rumour is?"  
  
Legolas passed a filthy glare to the two young elves standing close to the door, but said nothing.  
  
"I hear Astaler is possessed. Something to do with red eyes. Much like yours."  
  
The blonde prince snapped his head up at the wizard. Glancing towards the mirror that stood on the dressing table, he gasped. His eyes were, indeed red.  
  
"What happened when you were taken by the shadows?" Mithrandir began to slowly walk towards the princes, who in turn backed away from him.  
  
"Could you tell us, perhaps, what significance twenty four days has to the elves of this realm?"  
  
This time, the old wizard had struck mithril. Nuryávië stared at him for a moment, and then let out a small, helpless moan. His eyes rolled in his head and he fell backwards to the floor, hiding his head in his arms. Legolas choked and covered his mouth.  
  
"No," he whispered, "Please no,"  
  
Elrohir and Nilwethion looked at each other. The latter held out the arrow with the message carved in to it.  
  
"What is going on, Thranduilion?" Mithrandir became harsh, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the prince with the glowing red eyes.  
  
"They . . .Urshak . . .I cannot do it. Help us," the last part was small and helpless, like a lost child. Mithrandir looked around at Nilwethion, Elrohir and Calensil. He signalled to them to close the door. Elrohir swung it shut with a 'click'.  
  
"Now, prince Legolas, you will explain exactly what is going on,"  
  
The young prince fell to his knees and avoided the eyes of all those watching him.  
  
"We did not escape," he whispered, "We were set free. Urshak told us - that is, we have to . . ."  
  
"Have to what Legolas?" asked the wizard. Nilwethion put Calensil down on her feet and walked over to Legolas. He knelt down next to the prince and put his arms around his shoulders.  
  
"He told us that . . .that if we do not . . ."  
  
In a fluid movement, Nuryávië leapt up off the floor and covered Legolas' mouth.  
  
"Shut up, you fool!" his voice had become low and guttural, reminding Legolas of the orcs, "Urshak has spies everywhere! Think what will happen if you tell them!"  
  
The glow of the staff dimmed, leaving only Mithrandir illuminated. The wizard grew tall, pulling himself up to his full height - taller than any of the young elves in the room. When he spoke his voice boomed, echoing around the room.  
  
"Nuryávië Thranduilion I do not know what is going on, but you will not stop your brother from telling me. I know not what dark spirit has taken you over, but believe me I will not let it stop me!"  
  
The elf shook and recoiled as if burnt, his red eyes wide in terror. He dragged himself backwards until his back met a wall, never letting his eyes leave the wizard. The room returned to normal.  
  
"Legolas Greenleaf, do not let any terror stop you," said Mithrandir, returning to normal, "Now tell me, with no interruptions, what is happening.  
  
Legolas stared up at the wizard and opened his mouth, but said nothing and closed it again. Instead, he pulled up his sleeve and held out his arm, revealing the 'N' rune slashed so deeply in to his flesh by the orcs. After a few moments of stunned silence, Nilwethion, still kneeling by Legolas, pulled the princes sleeve back down over his arm.  
  
"Urshak - that is, Neldoreth, he told us that we have to kill Thranduil and naneth, and that we have to make sure we get Nilwethion and Calensil to them. He said he wants all his siblings on his side,"  
  
Nilwethion let out a disbelieving laugh.  
  
"Why would you do that? Now you are free, there is no need to even think about what he said!"  
  
Legolas shook his head sadly, his messy golden locks flopping miserably over his shoulders.  
  
"You do not understand. He still has Oroweth and Thellind and Elladan. If we do not do as we are told, they will kill Elladan in the slowest, most brutal way possible and turn Oroweth and Thellind in to the most twisted orcs ever created!"  
  
The silence in the room was deafening. Nobody in the room moved for what seemed like hours. The moment, as if frozen in time, dragged out beyond reason. At last Calensil began to cry, breaking the silence. She ran to Legolas and flung her little arms around his neck.  
  
"What are you going to do?" asked Nilwethion. Legolas looked away sadly.  
  
"We were going to kill naneth and Thranduil," admitted Nuryávië in low tones, "But when we saw him we realised that is impossible. As much as we hate him, we could never bring ourselves to do it."  
  
"I am glad to see you have not been turned yet then," said Mithrandir. When he spoke, the elves felt suddenly reassured somehow, as if everything was going to be all right, and that they were silly to be under such a dark shadow of doubt, "However, we do seem t be in a very dark situation,"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Cookie time! **Gives nice reviewers lovely big choc chip 'n' cherry cookie** Nothing really to say this time, except that I'm thinking about moving update day to Fridays, not Sundays. Hmm, we'll see.  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
MAVERICK GIRL ~ the anger continues through to this chapter, but not quite so strongly. Obviously.  
  
SONY ~ ah well, never mind. I'm sure one will come hopping along soon.  
  
ICED ~ not really what I would call cute, but never mind. I suppose, viewed in a certain light, angry princesses in a mood with their parents can be seen as cute.  
  
FIREANGEL ~ good reason. Have a nice time in Italy.  
  
PIRATE-CHICHA ~~ wait a mo, that means you've changed your name twice in about two weeks! Confusing. If they're evil or not, that's for you to judge. If you did that, they probably would turn evil. It all gets explained why.  
  
LEXIE ~ yup, black blood. Poor kiddies.  
  
TAMARA ~ yes he does. All the princes who were taken captive do. I didn't actually write it down, but he does.  
  
JUKIA WOLFCALL ~ heh. Shouldn't bet then should you? Who were you betting against and what was the bet? Did you notice your name last chapter?  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~ you bet I want it! So what is this poison? Could come in very useful. **Kidnaps plot bunny from Imbefaniel** HA! My plot bunny!  
  
EBONY FALCON ~ but so far, lots of the stuff Neldoreth told the princes is true, or is true in their eyes. They don't know Thranduil had search parties looking all over Mirkwood for them, or that he was looking for Neldoreth for months and months.  
  
COOLIO02 ~ thank you very much. Here it is. 


	19. Cloak of Lies

CHAPTER 19 - Cloak Of Lies  
  
Two orcs watched through yellow eyes as they sat hidden in the dark foliage of a tree. Black cloaks and hoods covered their features and clothes to avoid any of the elven guards from seeing them. If that happened, Urshak would be far from happy. One smirked as he watched an elven maiden sob her heart out with a group of her friends, each one wailing louder than the last. They were not the only ones to be upset.  
  
After hours of waiting in the tree, the two orcs were finally rewarded. A procession left the halls of the king, bearing three bodies dressed in fine silk robes. The faces of the three bodies lifted up on the shoulders of guards were covered in black veils. As they emerged, the crying elves began to sob even louder. Some of the crowd drifted forward to touch the bodies, but were held back by the guards.  
  
"And they'll be the captains," muttered one of the orcs. His yellow eyes glinted in the light of torches being held aloft by members of the crowd.  
  
Now, the princes had left the palace, their heads bowed, each one of them dressed in black. Their pale faces, even from as far away as the trees, were obviously paler than they should be, the very essence of mourning. The orcs nodded to each other. They had seen enough.  
  
Dropping noiselessly to the ground, the orcs slipped away through the shrubbery of the forest to where their commander was waiting for news.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Legolas kept his head bowed, staring at the ground beneath him as he followed the funeral procession of his parents and sister. They had finally decided on poison, just a couple of drops in the wine at breakfast. The chosen poison only took two hours to work.  
  
Beside him, Astaler flashed a look at him, his face a mask of sorrow. That was all it was. A mask. At the feast after the funeral he, Astaler, would be announced as taking the throne, as few of the elves believed Oroweth would return. In the glint of the torchlight, the crowd could easily mistake their red eyes as reflections. Good.  
  
The crowd, however, was not likely to notice a small detail like their eyes. Legolas had seen them from one of the windows. Many of them were crying at the time, and it seemed that even more were crying now.  
  
The procession came to a stop, and Legolas looked on grimly as the three bodies were taken in to the family crypt. These would not be the first bodies to grace it. Already, the last queen, the wife of Oropher, lay in there after dying of heartbreak when the troops of Mirkwood had come back bearing the sad news of her husbands death after the battle of Dargolad. Her second child lay there also, having died only a few weeks after it was born. The child had been weak and unable to survive, having been born in the middle of a particularly harsh winter. Now, three more were to be taken in there and laid to rest.  
  
'It had almost been me' thought the prince, 'If they had come a few moments later to the pool the day after the feast when the orcs attacked.'  
  
He sighed as the doors to the crypt were sealed, relief flooding over him. Legolas looked again at his three siblings, only half listening as Mithrandir spoke to the crowds.  
  
" . . . And may the souls of the good King Thranduil, his beloved Queen Imlammthien and daughter Calensil find their way to the halls of Mandos where they will find eternal rest . . ."  
  
Keeping his head bent, Legolas began to run over the plan again in his mind. The first part was now completed successfully. The second part, convincing Nilwethion to slip away in to the forest where the orcs waited, would be more difficult. Getting past the guards would be easy enough, but first they would have to escape from all the other elves at the feast. There had already been so many elves telling the princes how sorry they were for the losses. Silly fools. If they really knew the truth . . .  
  
" . . . Reunited with friends and family long past . . ."  
  
It would be much harder for Astaler to slip away. After all, people were already looking to him to be the next king. Men would soon be arriving from Dale and lands further away to wish him well with his future reign.  
  
Legolas suppressed a small smile, remembering that he was supposed to be in mourning. Future reign indeed! It was quite laughable really. Then again, how many people were aware of the plan? Very few people. Mithrandir, the king and queen, the lord and lady of Imladris and Silnan. Not even Nilwethion and Elrohir knew the full plan, though they were sure to find out soon enough. Calensil knew even less, only that she was supposedly dead and had to stay as quiet as possible, and all the warrior posing as his mother's body knew was that she had to sit in a crypt with the king and a couple of dead bodies for anything between a few days and a few weeks.  
  
Suddenly, Nuryávië poked Legolas in the side and he came away from his private thoughts.  
  
"Feast. Were you not paying attention again? Fool!"  
  
Legolas bit his lip to stop himself answering with stupid remark that would give the game away, but followed his brothers to the clearing where the feast was being held. It would be strange, attending a feast where there was nobody to inspect him critically or glare at him until he 'remembered his manners'. Were he and his brothers not in such a dangerous situation, this feast could have been remarkably fun.  
  
As they walked along the dark path with many other elves, Legolas decided to put the next part of the plan in to action. He looked at Astaler questioningly, and the older prince gave a slight nod. Legolas turned to Nilwethion and muttered quietly; "The attention is stifling!"  
  
His brother nodded in agreement.  
  
"If only they would leave us to mourn in peace!"  
  
Nuryávië, walking on the other side of Legolas, turned his head away to hide a smile. This was the part Nilwethion did not know about. He really did think his parents and sister were dead! Legolas felt quite bad for not telling Nilwethion the whole truth, but if he did then the plan would most likely not work.  
  
"Shall we slip away to our glade? Only for a couple of moments. I doubt anybody will miss us for a while,"  
  
Looking around to see if anybody was watching them, Nilwethion nodded. Legolas grabbed his arm and they disappeared in to the undergrowth with hardly a sound. They had enough practise at slipping away by now it was second nature to them.  
  
When they reached the glade, careful for once to keep their clothes immaculate, a shock awaited Nilwethion. Before he stepped through the trees, the prince saw a flash of moonlight reflecting off weaponry. He paused and grabbed Legolas' arm.  
  
"Legolas," he whispered, "There is somebody in our glade with their weapons drawn. We must go back!"  
  
Legolas shook his head, making his hair, now clean and silky again, flop over his shoulders. He grabbed Nilwethion by the arm and pulled him along the extra few steps in to the black shadows where the orcs were waiting.  
  
"No, we must not!" he replied, smiling as orcs appeared around them, encircling the pair. Nilwethion gasped and drew his short sword, adopting a defensive stance. He remembered something Legolas had said five days ago when telling Mithrandir about what had happened in captivity and the reason the were set free. 'We have to make sure we get Nilwethion and Calensil to them. He said he wants all his siblings on his side.' Dropping his sword, he looked in shock at his sibling.  
  
"You did it!" he whispered, "You killed them! You meant for this to happen!"  
  
Legolas nodded once. One of the orcs sidled up and patted Legolas on the shoulder, as if they were old friends. In one hand was a polished dagger, like the ones the elves used. The orc grinned, showing two rows of very sharp, pointed teeth. Urshak.  
  
"Well done, Songbird. I thought yew was going to turn traitor on us for a bit after yew'd gone! Bind 'im!"  
  
When the orcs came forward with thick rope to tie Nilwethion's wrists and feet, the elf made no move to defend himself. Instead, he shook his head in disbelief at Legolas, misery in his eyes. Legolas looked away in to the darkness of the forest, unable to watch as his brother was jostled about by the orcs.  
  
A few moments later, Nuryávië trotted in to the clearing, closely followed by Astaler. They looked apologetically at Nilwethion, feeling as guilty as Legolas. The two princes bowed their heads slightly to Urshak.  
  
"We seem to be missing one," said Urshak, fingering the edge of his knife, "Where is she?"  
  
"When we slipped the poison in to the wine of the king, she drank from his goblet when he was not looking before we could stop her. The poison killed her," replied Astaler. His voice was low and husky, as if ashamed. He looked Urshak in the eye, trying to work out whether the orc had believed the lie or not. Luckily, he did.  
  
"Be more careful next time!" he commanded. The orc turned away and walked over to Nilwethion, looking him up and down.  
  
"I thought yew were dead," he informed the prince, "Seems yer tougher than ye look. Could work well for yew. Move out!"  
  
One of the orc picked up Nilwethion and threw him over his shoulder, like a sack. Within a matter of seconds, the clearing looked as if nothing had just happened at all. The only hint that anything unusual had taken place was the elvish short sword lying on the ground where it had been dropped.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In a large clearing in the forest of Mirkwood, Mithrandir sat listening to a minstrel lamenting the loss of three beloved members of the royal family. The wizard looked around at the gathered elves. His gaze rested on Elrohir, sitting alone at the end of one of the tables, not touching his food. Mithrandir supposed that Elrohir would be the first to notice that the princes had gone.  
  
"We shall leave for Imladris in five days time," said a voice next to him. Mithrandir turned his head to see Elrond sipping his wine.  
  
"Have the preparations been made?" he asked. The lord of Imladris nodded.  
  
"My son has decided to wait here for news of his twin, though I cannot bear to stay here any longer than necessary after all that has happened. I yearn to be back home. Do such dark occurrences always take place in this forest?"  
  
The wizard looked sceptically at the elf lord sitting next to him.  
  
"That, Lord Elrond, was uncalled for. I am glad to say that no, they do not. It is unfortunate that this forest has become so dark in recent years."  
  
Elrond nodded regretfully.  
  
"I apologise, old friend. I spoke unfairly."  
  
"'Tis not to me you ought to be apologising to."  
  
Elrond looked around, but realised that Astaler and Nuryávië were no longer there. He looked back at Mithrandir and raised a dark eyebrow. Mithrandir smiled grimly and nodded. The princes would not return soon. Finishing the red wine in his goblet, Mithrandir turned his attention back to the lament being sung by the minstrel.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: An extra cookie for anybody who works out what on Middle Earth is going on here! Lol. Anybody confused? By the way, about five days have passed since the last chapter.  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
LEXIE ~~ yup, they have red eyes. This is not a good thing.  
  
SONY ~~ ooh, you managed to catch one? Well done! **Whispers** the plot bunny warren is that way.  
  
EBONY FALCON ~~ I know they should know better than that, but remember; they are under the influence of serious evil. Interesting plot bunny, but I've got the rest of the story plotted out. Sauron doesn't come in to it. It would, however, make a very good story anyway. Why don't you write it?  
  
LITTLE WITCH ~~ why thank you!  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ you take stuff like that? You're very crazy! However, I still want to know what the berry is called! **Grabs botanical book about herbs 'n' berries 'n' stuff**. It should be here somewhere . . .  
  
LotRseer3350 ~~ yeah, she's gone crazy, poor thing. Calensil is still perfectly sane.  
  
ICED ~~ a sparrow? Lol. I don't think there are any in Thranduil's halls, they all live in the garden. Awww, thank you!  
  
ORODRUIN ~~ it doesn't finish at the end of four weeks, but the most dramatic part is on the last day of the four weeks. If you follow me. To find out what that is though, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a couple of chapters. 


	20. Does The Sun Still Shine?

CHAPTER 20 - Does The Sun Still Shine?  
  
The night was cold and dark with no stars or moon to guide a way, and the only light came from the campfires of the orcs. Legolas looked on sadly as he watched Nilwethion tied harshly against a large oak tree. Beside him, his brothers avoided looking completely. Each one of them was filled with shame and guilt every time they had even looked at Nilwethion, bumping up and down uncomfortably on the shoulder of the orc.  
  
Nilwethion had not looked back at them once, nor had he said anything to them. If they tried to catch his glance, the betrayed prince would look away in the opposite direction, even if it meant burying his face in the orcs back. A disgusting thing in indeed.  
  
Now they had stopped and Nilwethions bonds had been cut, only to be replaced quickly with these new bonds, binding him to the tree, rendering him helpless. Legolas could see how tightly the ropes dug in to his siblings flesh, tearing at his skin. Nilwethion, however, made no sound of complaint or of pain, but acted like a rag doll, similar to Elladan when they had first been captured.  
  
Looking around, Legolas realised they were in exactly the same spot as they had been so long ago. How long ago was it anyway? More than a couple of days. Weeks, though how many Legolas did not know. He had lost track of the time again.  
  
On the ground was dried blood where the orcs had first tortured Elladan, but instead of being repulsed and sickened as Legolas knew he ought to feel, the prince was slightly intrigued - drawn towards it with a sick sense of interest.  
  
The sound of a creature being struck brought the prince to his senses and he looked towards the sound. An orc had slapped Nilwethion hard across the face leaving a huge red hand mark burning on the right side of the prince's face. Nilwethion turned his head away from the orc. It earned him another slap. Beside him, Astaler growled. The orc looked around and saw the three 'free' princes glaring at him. He gave Nilwethion a final slap for good luck, this time tearing away fair skin with his claws, and then walked away.  
  
"Nilwethion!" Legolas hailed his brother, but got no response. He tried again. Still Nilwethion kept his head turned away.  
  
Urshak appeared next to the young prince as if from nowhere, anger flashing in his ugly eyes. The orc grabbed Nilwethions face, digging his claws in, and shook the elf viciously.  
  
"If yer brother calls yer, ya look at him!" he snarled. The orc then ripped away the bonds binding the prince to the large oak and flung him across the clearing. Again, Legolas was reminded of a rag doll. Maybe the one Calensil used to own before she flung it away in a temper tantrum years ago. Legolas remembered the doll hitting a chair and tumbling over the back, the torso ripping open having caught on the carving, just as Urshak now threw Nilwethion again, making him hit a tree. A trickle of blood left the prince's mouth. Around the clearing, orcs began laughing and jeering.  
  
Toys. Something stirred in Legolas' memory. Just before the Imladris elves had arrived. What was it? Legolas forced himself to remember. Ah yes, that was it.  
  
"Lin."  
  
His voice was so soft only Astaler and Nuryávië heard it. They turned to him in surprise.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Lin. His ear fell off just before the twins and their people arrived. I had forgotten completely what with the feast and . . ."  
  
"And Aliela," Nuryávië finished the sentence with a small smile as Legolas blushed, "Of course. When we get home that bear is having his ear sewn on and is being locked in a glass box where no harm can come to him!"  
  
"If we get back. We will be lucky to survive."  
  
Suddenly, Legolas let out a small laugh. Around him the orcs did not notice, as they were too busy waiting for Urshak to allow them to 'play' with Nilwethion. Astaler and Nuryávië looked at him with shock.  
  
"What is so funny?"  
  
"This whole situation. Is it not ridiculous?" grinned Legolas. He looked at the identical looks of horror on his brothers' faces.  
  
"I see nothing funny about this situation!"  
  
The orcs around them cheered loudly suddenly, whooping and laughing so loudly the princes could hardly hear each other. Legolas dropped in to elvish so that even if one of the orcs was eavesdropping, they would not understand a word of it.  
  
"Of course you do not Astaler. Think about it though. Think about the Plan. Is that not hilarious? Does it not strike you as funny that in a few weeks, or months - however long it takes to get to Imladris, Calensil and naneth will be dancing around and having the time of their lives, whilst the orcs think they are dead? Does it not strike you as funny that adar, the elf who gets bored if he has no affairs of state to see to, is locked away in a tomb where there is absolutely nothing for him to do but talk to a guard who he hardly knows for at least two weeks? Is it not hilarious that our adar, the very king who loves his food and drink so much we have at least a feast a month now has to survive on rations and no wine until we arrive home with? Is it not hilarious that almost every elf in our realm believes our whole family now to be dead? Do you not find that funny?"  
  
The smiles on the faces of Astaler and Nuryávië had been growing and growing in size as Legolas spoke. As they looked at each other, they realised what Legolas was saying was perfectly true and just as ridiculous. As Astaler let out a small laugh, the orcs around him laughed loudly as well and they princes heard a dull moan. Their smiles vanished completely and they turned around to try and see through the orcs, but the press of bodies was too thick.  
  
The three elves pushed their way through the orcs away from the sounds of Urshak torturing Nilwethion and climbed quickly up the oak tree, still with the rope lying limply at the bottom of it. When he had climbed a few branches up, Legolas paused.  
  
"Why are we doing this?" he asked quietly. Astaler looked at him. Nuryávië was already higher than the other two and watching the sickening spectacle, growing paler and paler.  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
"Trying to see what is happening to Nilwethion."  
  
Astaler pulled himself up further in to the branches before answering.  
  
"To make ourselves angry at the orcs, I suppose. To make ourselves hate them in the way they made us hate adar."  
  
The answer was enough. Perching on a thick branch to the right of Astaler and slightly lower down than Nuryávië, Legolas turned in the same direction of the orcs. As he watched Nilwethion writhing in pain on the ground and listened to the tortured cries of pain, bitter hatred welled up inside Legolas, just as Astaler had said it would. It took all the will power he had not to cry out to the orcs to stop, or to throw his dagger through the neck of the nearest one. Or Urshak.  
  
"Legolas!"  
  
The prince snapped his head around quickly when he heard Nuryávië hiss his name from the branches above his head. He looked up and saw both his brothers glaring at him.  
  
"Get your hand off your dagger! Do you want us killed?"  
  
Looking down, Legolas realised that he was clutching the hilt of his dagger. Slowly, he returned it to its hiding place. The three princes had enough weapons between them for an armoury, but the only weapons the orcs knew about were the swords hanging in their sheaths. Nice and obvious, but unlikely to be used. Legolas looked sheepishly at his brothers and then turned his attention back to the torment the orcs were giving out.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
When king Thranduil woke up, there was a small light flickering not far away. Turning his head, he saw that the small light came from a large, white candle. Looking around, he could see that he was now in the tomb. Rubbing his head he sat up, his body complaining loudly. He heard a small gasp and looked around.  
  
Sitting cross-legged by the candle was a fairly young elven maiden dressed in Imlammthien's best dress. A black veil had been thrown back from her face, revealing her startlingly blue eyes and pale, terrified face. When the maiden saw it was the king, she relaxed. Thranduil walked over to her and sat opposite her, the candle in the middle.  
  
"So you are the warrior Silnan chose for this mission?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Name?"  
  
"Culkemen, your majesty,"  
  
"A very pretty name, Culkemen."  
  
In the candlelight, Culkemen blushed. She let out a small smile, but then looked around and shivered.  
  
"Are you cold?" asked the king.  
  
The warrior shook her head, but her eyes flickered towards the bones of the bodies already in the crypt for years. Thranduil began to understand, remembering how scared Oroweth used to be of death when he was a small child.  
  
"You do not like being stuck with the bodies?"  
  
"No your majesty. They scare me. I apologise."  
  
"Do not apologise. You cannot help your fears, though I find myself wondering why you accepted the mission if you do not like it. Besides, I am sure my naneth would not object to you being here."  
  
Culkemen nodded, but rubbed her arms as though still scared and moved closer to the candle.  
  
"I scared you when I awoke, did I not?"  
  
The other elf nodded miserably.  
  
"I thought you were one of the dead come to kill me for invading their space for a moment," she whispered, embarrassment in her voice. She suddenly let out a small giggle. "I have been sitting by the candle terrifying myself with ghost stories my friends and I would tell each other as novices,"  
  
The king joined her in the laughter.  
  
"Were they good stories?" he asked. Culkemen nodded.  
  
"Oh yes your majesty - although I am afraid at time they were too good. It is all well and good telling silly stories with your friends, but when you have to walk home in the dark through the woods . . . especially if the wind is howling or if it is foggy . . ." she trailed off and looked up again at the two bodies, shuddering.  
  
"Is there any food here, or are we to starve?" asked the king, looking around. The candle only lit a small area and the shadows seemed to be creeping in. Culkemen nodded.  
  
"It is in the corner over there. They have given us plenty of lembas, some fruit and a large barrel of water."  
  
"Any wine?" Thranduil asked hopefully. Culkemen shook her head.  
  
"I am willing to wager anything that was Legolas' doing! If I ever see him again . . ."  
  
Thranduil trailed off as he remembered the recent events of his life, then began again sadly.  
  
"If I ever see Legolas again I will most likely throw my arms around him and never let him out of my sight again. Do you have children?"  
  
Culkemen nodded, her face lighting up.  
  
"I have a young daughter named Sulin. She is asleep in the place of your daughter. May I ask . . . am I permitted to ask why we are here? Silnan told me not a word more than he had to."  
  
For a moment Thranduil became angry with the warrior sitting opposite him, but then he looked at her face and thought of her daughter - who had not realised even existed until a few moments ago - and felt that he owed her something for such blind loyalty. Making decisions for yourself is a simple thing, Thranduil thought, but when you make a decision including your offspring without being given a proper reason . . .  
  
"Very well," he muttered, "I suppose you have as much right to know as all others involved."  
  
In the flickering candlelight, Thranduil began to tell the tale giving Culkemen every detail he knew and could remember. As the tale unfolded, the warrior began to wish more and more that she had never asked, thinking always of her daughter still sleeping in the corner. When he finished they sat silently for a few moments, and then Thranduil looked up at Culkemen with sad eyes.  
  
"Tell me, does your sun still shine?" he asked sadly.  
  
"I could not see it," came the reply, "Even if it did."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Legolas and Nuryávië knelt beside Nilwethion, who was lying on the ground bleeding and moaning occasionally.  
  
"Astaler has gone to get some herbs to help you heal," offered Legolas timidly as Nilwethion moaned again. He looked at Nuryávië and bit his lip. The elf had been tortured for almost two hours without any help before Urshak had suddenly given him one last kick and told the three other elves to tend to him, much to the disappointment of the orcs.  
  
"I do not want your help. You killed Calensil and adar and naneth!" he hissed. Legolas and Nuryávië looked at each other, and then Nuryávië nodded slightly. He slipped in to his own tongue.  
  
"They are not dead," he muttered quickly, hoping the orcs would not hear him. Even though the orcs would not understand him, they would make him to stop speaking in elvish. "We only gave them a sleeping draught. They will be safe soon. Naneth and Calensil are going to Imladris until this is all. The bodies we laid to rest in the tombs were not dead. That was a warrior and her daughter who we also gave the sleeping draught to. Thranduil is with them."  
  
Nilwethions eyes widened as he stared in wonder at his brothers.  
  
"A pity you could not have given me the draught also," he whispered. He was still in pain, and did not feel that he could forgive his brothers so easily. Was this how they felt about adar?  
  
"We apologise for that. We only just got away with 'killing' Calensil. If we had 'killed' both of you Urshak would not have been happy, and then he would take it out on the others."  
  
"The others? Oroweth and Thellind?"  
  
Legolas nodded sadly.  
  
"Do not forget Elladan. He has it worse than any of us."  
  
Nilwethion closed his eyes sadly. An image of the two brothers he had not seen for weeks flashed in front of his eyes, followed by an image of the twins at the feast laughing at Legolas and Aliela disappearing in to the forest. That image was followed by one of Calensil playing with a rag doll a few years ago, and then by an image of Legolas and Thellind laughing with him at a silly prank they played on Oroweth. He opened his eyes again, unwilling to see any more images. The face of a happy, care-free Legolas that had filled his mind just a moment before was replaced by a real image of the prince - his face drawn and full of worry.  
  
At that moment, Astaler dropped down next to them, herbs and leaves used for healing in his hands. He pushed a piece of hair out of his face.  
  
"The orcs are watching us," he whispered, "I saw them following me in the forest. Urshak has many of them watching us carefully. Whatever you do, no more elvish and nothing that could be of ill consequence if they hear it. Understand?"  
  
His brothers nodded, and then began to tend to Nilwethion, making sure they gave an evil grin such as the ones the orcs gave if the prince cried out. If the orcs did not believe they truly had turned, their lives would be forfeit.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Congrats to AbbiCat14 and Orodruin for guessing most accurately What Happens Next. You both get a huge big cookie each! **Drags over two huge cookies** sorry if it's a bit big for ya to carry, one of my muses made it oversized with fairy magic. Not that that's a bad thing.  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
ICED1 ~ that wasn't very nice now was it? Lol. They did the only thing they could under the circumstances. I wouldn't be too hard on them - poor things. **Huggles princes**  
  
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~ still chasing those plot bunnies? Try leaving some lettuce or carrot for them and then catch them when they go to eat it. Alternatively you could stun one, I suppose.  
  
LOTRSEER3350 ~ lukewarm, but not quite warm enough to get a cookie. Nice guess though.  
  
EBONY FALCON ~ I can't wait! It does sound like a good story.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~ you . . .you cried? Ooh, you poor thing! I didn't think I was THAT good! **Huggles**  
  
ORODRUIN ~ go you! Like I said in the A/N, you and AbbiCat14 were the closest to guessing the chapter. Congratulations!  
  
SILVERBUTTERFLY ~ petrol? **Gags** **chokes on petrol** **recovers** sorry, I only update once a week, and that's on Fridays. Until I start school again, and then it'll be Sundays. I can't write much faster than that!  
  
TAMARA ~ why thank you  
  
ABBICAT14 ~ well that was v-e-r-y close, but not quite there. Close enough to get your cookie though, so go you! Nothing ever is that simple. You plan it like that, but then somebody always ruins it. The only bit wrong was that Gandalf doesn't come to rescue them, something else happens. 


	21. When Only Fools Hope Remains

CHAPTER 21 - When Only Fools Hope Remains  
  
The ground grew steadily more and more angled as the party of orcs made their way back to the large network of caves. They dragged Nilwethion roughly along by his hair, knowing that after the two hours of torture they had put him through the prince would not be able to walk. Astaler, Nuryávië and Legolas followed the main party of orcs, but they noticed that there were always at least twelve orcs behind them.  
  
As Legolas turned around, two of the orcs leered at him, bearing their rotting fangs and narrowing their small yellow eyes. The prince gave them a small glare, and then turned back around. Even then, the prince could feel their stares on his back. He gave a small, involuntary shudder.  
  
"Something is not right," he whispered, so low that only Nuryávië heard him. Even Astaler, walking on the other side of Nuryávië, was not aware Legolas had spoken.  
  
"Of course not - we have betrayed Nilwethion. I doubt that is what you mean, however," replied the older prince in equally low tones.  
  
"The orcs behind us are watching us."  
  
"What are you saying?"  
  
"I think . . . I think that we have been set up somehow by Urshak. His orcs are watching everything we do. I am certain he has fooled us."  
  
Legolas turned his head slightly to see how Nuryávië reacted. A small grimace passed across the princes' face for only a moment, and then Nuryávië became expressionless.  
  
"I have had that feeling from the start, however there is nothing else we can do but play along. If we did not make sure the poison was in the wine, think what would have happened to Calensil. There is nothing we can do but play along."  
  
As he listened to his brothers' words, Legolas realised how correct Nuryávië really was. He was about to reply when the company of orcs halted suddenly. Looking around, the young prince saw that they had reached the entrance to the city of caves. He paled, remembering the darkness and fear.  
  
There was, however, no time to stop as the boulder had already been rolled out of the way and the orcs had begun to stream down in to the dark, narrow tunnel. Legolas stepped in to the dreaded tunnel for the second time in his life, and wished he had not.  
  
The darkness wrapped itself around him like a blanket, smothering him. Reaching out, Legolas found Astaler's arm and grasped hold of it - the only comfort in the dark. At last the end of the tunnel came and they stumbled out in to the red flickering light. Blinking owlishly, the princes adjusted their eyes to cope with the new light.  
  
The first place Legolas looked was the cage on the stone in the middle of the great hall. To his horror, it was empty. The only sign that it had ever been occupied was a trail of dried blood leading away down off the stone.  
  
"This way, my little songbird," snarled a voice from not far away. Urshak stared deep in to Legolas' eyes with what seemed to be a cross between satisfaction and insane malice. Trying to keep in character, Legolas nodded slightly and followed Urshak - still dragging Nilwethion by his golden brown hair - down a carven pathway, flanked by Nuryávië and Astaler. Only three orcs followed them. The rest of the group seemed to have disappeared to carry out other tasks.  
  
"In here," growled Urshak. He unlocked a door and threw Nilwethion in, and then stood aside for the other three princes to enter. The three guards followed closely behind, unnerving Legolas.  
  
Inside the room, it was a dark, damp and dingy cell. The only light came from a flickering candle in the middle of the room and the torches the guards were holding. Against one of the walls were crouched three figures, huddled together. Oroweth, Thellind and Elladan. They pulled closer together when they saw Urshak and shuddered.  
  
"Now little princes, Urshak has summat to admit. I lied to yew!" he began laughing, his fangs glinting in the torchlight. Behind him, the guards began laughing with him. On the floor, Nilwethion dragged himself as far away from the orcs as possible, his eyes wide.  
  
"I lied! I ain't yer brother, little princes, and yew were fools to believe it! We caught yer real brother years ago - centuries, in fact. Killed 'im nice an' slow, we did. Took years, in fact. Very, very fun it was. Turned 'im in to a nice little wreck. We'd have kept 'im longer as well . . . only the brat had to go and die didn't he? Heartbreak, or summat stupid like that. That's the way yew lot are going t' go . . . unless we decide to keep one of yew as a nice little pet, an' then we can show yew to yer people what we can do in years to come. Sounds fun, don't it?"  
  
Legolas began to shake, terrified and disgusted. Terrified of his fate and disgusted with himself for ever believing the orc that stood before him, laughing wildly. He took a step back.  
  
"If yer wonderin' how I knew about the room," added the creature as an after thought, "We've got spies. Family of little crows, if yer must know. I'd get some rest now, little princes, because tomorrow we start having our fun, and you won't get any rest after that. Ever. Oh, and yew won't be needing those."  
  
Urshak signalled to the orc guards behind him, who grabbed the swords from the belts of Astaler, Nuryávië and Legolas. They left the room laughing loudly and slammed the door shut behind them. A key scraped in the lock and the seven princes were left in a stunned silence.  
  
After a while, in a very shaky voice, Nuryávië muttered, "Well I suppose it is a good thing we did not kill them then."  
  
Swallowing, Legolas nodded.  
  
After another long pause, Legolas ventured; "Have they . . . have they done anything to you since we . . . since we left?"  
  
Oroweth glared at him, a protective arm wrapped around Thellind.  
  
"No, but no thanks to you! Traitors!"  
  
Next to Legolas, Astaler gave a small jump.  
  
"Oroweth, it is not what you think."  
  
"The orcs told us everything, you filth! You killed them! You switched sides! You deserve the death captain Urshak has planned for you!"  
  
It was too much for Legolas when he saw the anger and hatred in Oroweth's eyes. He recognised the burning fire that had lit up in Astaler's eyes when Elrohir and Nilwethion had pressed them for answers on how they escaped. His knees buckled and the young prince collapsed to the floor, shaking.  
  
"Let us explain Oroweth, please!"  
  
"There is nothing to explain!"  
  
Thellind let out a small whimper and Oroweth drew his younger sibling in to a closer embrace. Thellind looked at Legolas, despair and sorrow in his eyes, and then turned away, hiding his face in Oroweth's hair.  
  
"They did not do it Oroweth. Listen to them. Do you really think they could lie to you? To us?"  
  
Oroweth looked up at Nilwethion and took in the battered form. In the torchlight, his eyes glinted red. The prince remained stubborn.  
  
"Please Oroweth, let them tell their story. Then we can decide what to think of them. The orcs may have been lying to us."  
  
At last, Oroweth gave a small nod to Elladan. The elf seemed to have healed a lot since the three princes had been given their mission. Apparently the orcs had left him alone for the two weeks, as they had done with Oroweth and Thellind. Legolas gave a small smile.  
  
"We did not kill naneth, adar or Calensil," he said, "We only staged their deaths. We gave them a sleeping draught to make them sleep for a few days. Naneth and Calensil are going to Imladris with Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian until this is all over. Adar refused to leave Mirkwood, so he is hiding in the tomb with a warrior who looks like naneth and her young daughter. We staged the funeral, and all the people of Mirkwood believe they are dead. Please believe us Oroweth, we could never murder them."  
  
The three princes looked imploringly at Oroweth, and just as the prince was about to answer Elladan spoke first in a small, scared voice.  
  
"They are going home without me?" His eyes were wide open and a small tear was threatening to form.  
  
"Elrohir is not," said Astaler hurriedly, "He is waiting here for you, in our halls."  
  
The Imladris elf brought his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. The small tears had now formed and flopped out of his eyes, running slowly down his cheeks.  
  
"How is Elrohir?" he whispered  
  
"Elrohir is a lot better off than you are, Elladan," said Nuryávië, "Though he has not stopped worrying about you."  
  
Nuryávië and Astaler flumped down to the floor beside Legolas as Elladan sniffed back more tears. They looked at Oroweth hopefully.  
  
"Are we forgiven, Oroweth?" asked Legolas. At last Oroweth nodded.  
  
"I suppose so. I ought to have known you would not do that, but so much as happened recently I no longer know what to believe. One thing I do believe is that Urshak will keep his word. We will die like Neldoreth did. I wish we had been able to know him."  
  
"We will soon," said Astaler suddenly, somehow sounding cheerful "We will all meet him in the halls of Mandos, and then we shall have all eternity to get to know him!"  
  
"Ah, but then we would not be able to watch Hollinethir grow up, and how could we live without Calensil?" came the quick reply from Legolas.  
  
"True. I think then that I shall wait until our sisters have grown up," said Astaler happily.  
  
The elves looked at him, astounded. The prince looked back at them, and then became confused.  
  
"Why are you all looking at me as if I am insane?" he asked  
  
"Astaler, we do not seem to have a choice in the matter, in case you have not realised. Urshak is going to kill us as slowly as he possibly can. We will never see Mirkwood again, nor Calensil. We will never see Hollinethir at all. How can you be so happy if we are about to die?"  
  
A slow grin wound its way on to Astalers features.  
  
"About to die? Are you sure about that Nuryávië?" he asked. Then he made a sharp movement with his hand, and before anybody could realise what the prince had done, a bunch of iron keys was dangling in front of their eyes. They gasped.  
  
"How by Eru did you get those?" whispered Legolas, his voice full of awe. Astaler grinned smugly.  
  
"I borrowed them from Urshak. The fool is very slow, considering how well he has trained all his hoard."  
  
"You mean you stole them?" gaped Nilwethion. Astaler looked reproachfully at him.  
  
"'Stole' is a very harsh word."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The rain poured down, drenching any elf foolish enough to be caught outside with no shelter. Unfortunately, that included the elves of Imladris, queen Imlammthien - although she did not seem aware that she was outside, let alone in the rain - princess Calensil who was very aware of the rain, and disapproved of it wholeheartedly, an escort of Mirkwood royal guards and Mithrandir. Mithrandir, however, did not seem bothered by the rain. In fact, he would have enjoyed watching the waterfall spilling over the brim of his hat had the situation not been so serious.  
  
"Farewell naneth, farewell adar. I will return as soon as I find Elladan again, live or . . .or dead," came the voice of Elrohir from under a hooded cloak. He stood opposite three figures - two tall, and one only about waist height.  
  
"Farewell Elrohir. Do not be too long in returning," came the voice of Celebrian from under an almost identical cloak. The lady of Imladris bent forward and kissed her son on his brow.  
  
"Farewell Elrohir. Do not do anything foolish," came the voice of Elrond from under the other tall, cloaked figure.  
  
"I will not adar. Goodbye little one. You will enjoy Imladris," he said to the small figure. This was Calensil.  
  
"I would enjoy it more if Legas and Nilly and Thelly were there too," came the small, sorrowful voice, "I want my brothers back!"  
  
A sniffing sound came from under the hood, which was quickly followed by floods of tears. Lady Celebrian picked up the small princess and began to cuddle her, making crooning sounds.  
  
"I will stay in Mirkwood no longer than a year," said Elrohir, unsure how to treat small, crying children. He usually left Arwen to Elladan when she cried and stood well back. Elrond was thinking along similar lines.  
  
The lord of Imladris embraced his son, and then mounted his horse. His wife did the same, swinging Calensil up before her. Not far away, Mithrandir was leading the queen of Mirkwood gently but firmly towards her horse.  
  
The grey wizard stood back with Elrohir as the elves began to ride slowly away from the halls of Mirkwood under the eaves of the dark woods. Mud was already beginning to splatter the legs of their horses and the heavy rain was forcefully penetrating their cloaks, leaving nothing and nobody dry.  
  
Only when the last elf passed out of view did the old grey wizard and the young elf turn their backs to the forest and make their way to Mirkwood's halls.  
  
"Well," said Mithrandir, "I hope this works."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Thanks a lot to all you wonderful, wonderful, **wonderful** reviewers who helped me get over 200 nice reviews! I love you all! **Throws out extra cookies to everyone**  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~ whoa, that's emotional. I don't cry much. In fact, I hardly ever cry. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.  
  
LEXIE02 ~ updated!  
  
PIRATE-CHICHA ~ sorry to confuse you. I didn't mean to!  
  
JUKIA WOLFCALL ~ no wars involved with this fic, sorry. They did sort-of get taken hostage though.  
  
MAVERICKGIRL ~ it hasn't stopped twisting yet, and it isn't about to. Lol.  
  
COOLIO02 ~ thanks a lot.  
  
MOONMIST ~ I'm afraid that the one thing I can't promise you is everything turning out 'alright'. Well I could, but I would be lying. I have a bad habit of making things worse when they should get better.  
  
LITTLE WITCH ~ review soon? Did you mean update? Or is there a story you wanted me to read?  
  
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~ hmm, do I sense a Legolas fan girl here? Are there still plenty of plot bunnies left in the warren?  
  
ORODRUIN ~ **grabs in to bear hug** thank you so, so, so much! You were my 200th reviewer! **Hugs again** have yet another cookie! Of course you can give Nilwethion part of the cookie! Poor little darling. **Huggles Nilwethion**  
  
ICED1 ~ yup, that's spelt right. The princes understand why you wanted to slap them completely, and they say that it's ok. I actually have four muses, as it says on my bio.  
  
TAMARA ~ I will . . . I have, even. **Gets a mite confuzzled** 


	22. From Dale To Valinor

CHAPTER 22 - From Dale To Valinor  
  
Huddled together in the cold, dim light of the cell, the princes and Elladan shivered in silence, waiting for the orcs to re-appear before attempting to escape. The beats of their hearts and the steady breathing were the only sounds to be heard. Legolas grasped his hidden dagger, cold sweat drenching his palms.  
  
At last, the dull thud of approaching feet came from outside. The young prince dragged his hand away from the dagger before he gave the game away and the orcs realised the escape plan. They would know soon enough anyway, but the element of surprise was important. If they could just kill the guards without making a sound . . .  
  
The door swung open with a loud creaking sound, and light flooded in from the corridor - red light, but enough to make the princes look away and shield their eyes. Urshak stepped in to the dingy cell, closely followed by several smirking guards, their evil yellow eyes full of glee.  
  
Urshak walked towards the elves with a swagger only used by winners who gloat. In each hand he held a whip with nine strands, tiny blades woven in to the ends with more care than Legolas thought the orcs could possibly give. The ugly orc cracked one of the whips down on the ankles of Thellind and the prince whimpered. Urshak laughed and cracked the other whip, this time catching Nuryávië in the chest.  
  
Instead of whimpering, however, Nuryávië growled. This seemed only to appease Urshak more.  
  
"Rest time is over, little ones. Time for my boys t' get their play!"  
  
As he raised one of the whips again, he was interrupted. An orc shuffled in through the open door and coughed loudly. Urshak turned around and lowered the whip.  
  
"What?"  
  
"There's elves set out from the stronghold, cap'n. The foreign ones. They spotted one of our lads an' killed 'im. The lads are already waitin' outside for yez, sir."  
  
Urshak hissed and flicked the whip, striking the floor with a sharp crack. He turned back to the princes.  
  
"Don't go thinkin' we've let yew off the hook, little traitor princes. I'll be leaving ya for a bit, but my lads are still here to have some fun."  
  
Urshak gave a mock bow to the elves and swept of angrily out of the door. The unfortunate orc who had brought the message turned to follow his leader, but one of the guards blocked his way. Raising his sword, the guard slashed downwards and the messenger fell dead, headless. The guard then dipped his hand in to the pool of blood already forming and walked over to the elves, still huddled together. He wiped his hand over Legolas' face, sniggering.  
  
The taste of blood stung in the young elfs mouth like cold metal. He spat it out on to the rocky floor, disgusted. This earned him a slap across the face from the overly large orc in front of him.  
  
As the orc looked down at the prince on the floor and raised his hand to strike the fair creature again, he felt a sharp blade against his throat. His yellow eyes swivelled sideways to see Astaler holding a dagger to his throat. Behind him, the door clanged shut.  
  
"That was very unwise, my friend," said the prince. His voice was low and silky, and more dangerous - far more dangerous - than Urshak. A thin gurgle came from the shadows, and a few dull thuds. The orc hissed loudly and reached for the scimitar at his belt.  
  
Before he even touched the weapon, he fell to the ground. Dead.  
  
Astaler wiped his blade clean on his shirt and turned around, smiling grimly. The blood of the orc was already flowing along the floor, mingling with the blood of the first dead creature. The prince pulled Legolas up to his feet as the younger of the two raised a delicate eyebrow.  
  
"You have saved none for me!"  
  
His brother looked guilty for a moment before looking around the room. The three other guards were, indeed, dead. Two had daggers in their throats, thrown from the other side of the room, and the other had his throat slit. Nice, silent and efficient.  
  
"I am hardly the only one to blame, my dear blood covered brother," replied Astaler, "Oroweth and Nuryávië killed those three. It really was quite thoughtless of them to give seven elves - and elves trained as warriors by the best fighters Mirkwood has - only four guards."  
  
The others nodded.  
  
"Shall we go?" asked Nilwethion as he stood up. Oroweth shook his head.  
  
"Not yet. Urshak and the main party of orcs will still be here. We must wait a little longer."  
  
"You do realise," said Elladan slowly, "That even though many of the orcs have gone, we will still be overwhelmed by the remaining orcs - so much so that it will take a miracle for us to escape alive."  
  
Legolas flashed a cheeky grin at Elladan, feeling as though he was living in a dream.  
  
"Aye, perhaps, but at least this way we will take a few of them with us. We shall make a stand to put Glorfindel and his Balrog to shame! Minstrels will sing of us from Dale to Valinor and all the lands in between!"  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
"Yes Nilwethion?"  
  
"How will the minstrels be able to sing of us if they do not even know we made a stand? If we are killed here, nobody will know what we have done."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Oroweth?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can we go yet? The candle has almost burnt to a stub, the main party of orcs must be well away by now."  
  
Oroweth paused to think about it, and then nodded. The elven prisoners had gone over the plan - in so far as they had a plan - enough times so that even a young, untrained elfling would know what to do. It was not, however, a very difficult plan. Sneak out in to the corridor and kill as many orcs as possible silently before the alarm is raised. Then fight for your life and get to the exit as quickly as possible whilst sticking together.  
  
That was the only really important part of the plan. Stick together and have the possibility of life, or split up and die for sure.  
  
Thellind, the prince nearest the door, pushed it open slowly and slid out through the door, clutching his dagger so hard his knuckles were white. There was a gurgle as he stabbed the orc on guard outside through the neck, and then he signalled for the others to follow.  
  
~  
  
When asked afterwards, Legolas never could tell anybody what exactly happened that day.  
  
All the elf of Mirkwood could ever remember was creeping down the silent corridor in single file, Elladan in front of him and Nilwethion behind him. He could only remember hearing the whimpers and moans of the seven dead orcs as Thellind, who was in front, killed them with practised, emotionless ease, and then stepping over the twitching bodies. He could remember hearing the warning yell of an orc just before it was stabbed through the heart, and then the answering cries of its fellow orcs as they realised what was happening, before he blanked out.  
  
~  
  
The young prince swore under his breath as he saw the attacking orcs running down the dark corridor with the scimitars held high above their heads, ready to attack, foam and spit flying out from the corners of their mouths in anger.  
  
His brothers and Elladan moved in to a tight circle, slashing and cutting at the opposing force. Their knives met with flesh and howls of increasing anger, as none of the orcs could reach the speedy blades aggravating them.  
  
As Legolas parried with a particularly difficult orc, moving as quickly as he could with the others towards the main hall and then the exit, an elven voice next to him began singing, raised high above the sound of the skirmish. Legolas laughed, as he realised how much the fair voice of Nilwethion was unnerving the orcs, and making them become even angrier and make mistakes. In the case of the orc he was battling, the mistake was one mistake too many. As he beheaded the orc, Legolas joined Nilwethion with the song - a simple song sung by young elflings as they played in the fields and forests. His spirits began to lift high above the slaughter and the mass of stinking corpses and thick, sticky blood. Killing the orcs seemed somehow to become much easier.  
  
Orc after orc fell to the elves, but it could not last. The elves began to slowly tire, having little energy left, whereas their enemies kept coming on fresh and ready for battle.  
  
A small but swift orc came up against Legolas, and after a few moments the vile creature managed to get past the princes defences and stabbed just below his ribs. The young prince gasped in pain, and stabbed the little orc through the eye, making it topple over in to its fellows giving Legolas a short break. The damage had been done, however, and Legolas clutched at the wound, pulling out the deeply embedded knife. Blood seeped through his fingers and his vision blurred slightly before returning to normal. The prince gave another gasp, his breathing becoming ragged.  
  
There was a loud, deafening howl behind him, and then the orcs scattered. Turning around, Legolas saw an orc falling to his knees in front of Elladan, a stolen long sword sticking through his body.  
  
"Come on," gasped Oroweth, realising how quickly the other orcs had fled when they heard the dying scream, "He must have been second in command. We must escape whilst we can, before they come back!"  
  
Without looking back, the seven elves fled down the corridor and in to the main hall, leaping over dead bodies and half stumbling on the bones that made the paths, made slippery with blood. They ran in to the great hall of the orcs to find it empty, to their great relief. As they half flew across the vast space, however, an arrow thudded in to the ground next to Thellind's feet, followed by another and another. The next arrow hit Astaler in the side as he ran, but he did not stop. If anything, after a slight stumble, the arrow gave the prince an extra spurt as he reached the pitch-black tunnel leading out of the caves. A few more arrows fell about the elves, most of them missing, but two more found their marks. One hit Legolas in his left arm and the other hit Thellind, piercing his leg and making him fall.  
  
Grinding his teeth against his own pain, Legolas dragged Thellind up and pulled him to the safety of the tunnel.  
  
Once in the darkness of the tunnel, the elves did not stop to catch their breath as the cries and howls of the orcs were already getting louder behind them. Instead, they carried on running up the tunnels, their hands tracing the line of the wall so they did not waste valuable time bumping in to each other or the walls.  
  
When they reached the top, Astaler, Elladan and Nuryávië shoved aside the huge boulder that blocked the entrance and the seven elves emerged in to the bright sunlight, blinking owlishly.  
  
They paused to catch their breath, only continuing to run when they heard the clamour from the orcs they had just escaped from.  
  
Only when they had disappeared as deep in to the forest as they could get without collapsing from blood loss or lack of energy did the escapees finally stop to rest, flopping down on to the forest floor and lying there, panting heavily. The orcs, they knew, would not be following them for a few hours yet, at least until sundown. They were safe, for the moment. At last, Legolas spoke.  
  
"Could someone please tell me what just happened?" he managed, and then he cringed, his wounds hurting him. Clenching his teeth, he grabbed hold of the arrow in his arm and yanked it out. As he pulled it away, the metal tip came off, still embedded in his flesh. Elladan looked up.  
  
"We . . . we just escaped certain death!" the Imladris elf gasped, before flopping back down, "Sweet Eru my chest hurts!"  
  
Looking over at the half elf, Legolas realised that a large, deep gash ran diagonally from his shoulder to half way down his ribs on the other side of his torso. As if upset that Legolas had begun to take more interest in the wounds of another, a sharp stab of pain reminded Legolas that he had, himself been stabbed by an orc. Looking down, he saw his own black blood staining his clothes and skin.  
  
"If it was certain death," replied Astaler, equally out of breath, "That must mean that we are dead."  
  
"Then Legolas' minstrels shall sing of the hordes of orcs slain by the six dead princes of Mirkwood and their dead friend from Imladris!" came the retort from Nilwethion, half laughed.  
  
"Do dead elves feel this much pain?" moaned Oroweth, as Astaler pulled the arrow from his shoulder. Nearby, Thellind whimpered slightly as he pulled the arrow from his calf.  
  
"Apparently so," growled Legolas, "Remind me never to wear these formal shoes again! 'Tis so difficult to run in them!"  
  
The young prince pulled his shoes off, getting his hands even filthier with blood and dirt that the shoes had picked up along the way. Astaler and Nuryávië pulled theirs off as well; shoving them under a bush so there would be no sign of them should the orcs find them later.  
  
"I lost one of my boots in the fight somehow so I may as well leave the other here," sighed Oroweth, getting his breath back, "And they took Elladans."  
  
"I can speak for myself," muttered Elladan, sullenly.  
  
Legolas laughed suddenly.  
  
"So that only leaves one of us with footwear! You may as well leave them here Thellind, or you will not be able to get them off later! They are caked with blood, and I hate to think what it will be like when it dries!"  
  
Shrugging, the older prince pulled his boots away and left them with the others under the bush.  
  
"What? Nothing to say?"  
  
Astaler glared at Legolas.  
  
"He has not spoken a word since you three were . . . given your mission."  
  
Legolas bit his lip, remembering how silent the elf had been last time they had been together. He blushed and looked away.  
  
"We cannot linger here long," said Nilwethion, changing the subject quickly, "We must go now, if we want any hope of getting to the Imladris elves before Urshak and his mob!"  
  
Suddenly, Legolas' eyes opened wide, horrified.  
  
"Oh Eru," he whispered, "Naneth and Calensil!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Oh look, it's a cliffie! Heh. *Smirks*. Also, thank you all very much for all the lovely reviews. Yet again, thank you all very much for reviewing, is there anyway I can improve on the writing? I love reviews, but I love them even more if they have constructive criticism in them!  
  
*Gives all the lovely reviewers a nice big cookie each*  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
MAVERICK GIRL ~ thank you. I try to add twists and turns to make it interesting.  
  
LOTRSEER3350 ~ back together? Does that mean it all fell apart somewhere along the way?  
  
SARA ~ *hugs* hey, glad you finally came to join us! For a while I thought about keeping the orc as really bring prince Neldoreth, but as you can see I have changed my mind.  
  
LEXIE02 ~ they still have red eyes, y'know. I'll be coming back to that, I think. It was all to do with that black liquid Urshak forced down their throats.  
  
SLG ~ oh I just had a few people telling me that particular chapter was confusing. I think because for the first half of the chapter I made it seem as though the three royals were dead, and then halfway down it came out that they were, in fact, alive. That's what made it confusing.  
  
LITTLE WITCH ~ lol. They ought to put spell check on the review thingy.  
  
MOONMIST ~ ooh, happy birthday then! Which fic? You mean Déjà vu? Um, actually I'm thinking about deleting that one. I really, really hate it.  
  
NIKKIFIER ~ glued to the computer? Sounds painful indeed!  
  
JUKIA WOLFCALL ~ heh. *Joins in the dance* blood thirty child, lol. If you want wars, go read Déjà vu. That has a war in, although I deeply regret writing it.  
  
ICED1 ~ I never really thought about it, but yes he is quite spunky isn't he? I hope you get over the muse problem soon.  
  
BEC ~ you really think this story line is intricate? I didn't think so. Not really. I suppose though, intricate is all a matter of opinion.  
  
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~ other authors? You really think I'm going to let any authors I don't know find that warren? Lol. Not likely! Yes, Urshak lied. He is an orc.  
  
TAMARA ~ don't worry, they've escaped.  
  
COOLIO02 ~ why thank you!  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~ Awww, you poor thing! Nobody to comfort you at all? Have an extra contort cookie! And lots and lots of hugs from my muses and me.  
  
SARAH / MELODY ~ thanks for the plot bunny, but you keep him. I already have the whole fic worked out. Lady Larvle of Mirkwood and I also know where to find a nice big warren full of plot bunnies.  
  
ORODRUIN ~ well it wasn't much of a plan, as you can see. More "run like heck for the exit and kill as many as you can on the way!" type plan. Then again, simple often works best. The keys, in the end, were used to keep the princes locked IN until they wanted to escape. Ah, the irony.  
  
PIRATE-CHICHA ~ glad we got that sorted out. =)  
  
GILRAEN3 ~ thanks very much!  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~ I've updated! Obviously . . . 


	23. Nothing Else Matters

A/N: This chapter is gory. You have been warned.  
  
CHAPTER 23 - Nothing Else Matters  
  
As he ran through the trees, Legolas felt his legs become heavier and heavier, feeling like lead weights. The wounds where the orc had stabbed him and where the arrow had pierced his arm were throbbing, becoming more painful by the second.  
  
The young prince stumbled as his knife wound became too much to bear, and he fell to his knees, clutching at the gaping hole in his skin. Black blood flowed over his hands. Had the prince rested, it would have stopped bleeding, but as it was it had become worse. The same was true of where the arrow had pierced his arm. Legolas gasped at the pain and bit his lip.  
  
Dropping down beside their brother on to the leafy floor, Astaler and Oroweth put their arms around Legolas, trying to help him to his feet, trying to ignore their own wounds. The youngest of the princes just flopped down again, unable to stand.  
  
"Legolas, get up!" gasped Oroweth, his hand gripping Legolas' once fine, black tunic, now ruined beyond repair from being stained with blood, ripped by orcish weapons and torn in the retreat through the forest by branches, brambles and thorns in the rush to get away from their captors.  
  
"I cannot," moaned Legolas, gasping for breath, "The wound . . .it hurts . . . so much," his words came through broken and ragged as breathing became more difficult. He clenched his teeth together in pain  
  
"I will carry you," said Oroweth, again hauling the young prince to his feet. On the other side of Legolas, Astaler shook his head.  
  
"Nay brother, you cannot carry little Greenleaf - you hardly have enough energy for yourself! Besides, your wounds are almost as bad as his are. Besides, I am bigger than you are, even if you are older."  
  
Again, Legolas groaned in pain. Ahead of them Elladan, Nuryávië, Thellind and Nilwethion stood waiting. Thellind leant against a tree, tore off a strip of his tunic and tied it around the arrow wound in his leg where he had been pierced by the orc arrow. He had begun to shiver and shake, and the gash was threatening to become septic.  
  
Giving in with a low growl, Oroweth stood back and let Astaler scoop up the whimpering Legolas, holding the prince as if he were a baby. Legolas clung on to Astalers shoulders, making the elder prince grind his teeth together in pain and almost drop Legolas. Oroweth glared at him.  
  
"You got an arrow in your shoulder in the caves," he said. Astaler shook his messy, dark hair out of his face.  
  
"'Tis just a scratch," he replied, and then swiftly changing the subject he added, "We cannot linger here. Go and help Thellind."  
  
Looking doubtfully at his younger brother, Astaler moved over to Thellind, who was limping badly due to his leg wound, and wrapped the silent princes' arm around his shoulder and then his own arm around Thellind's waist to give him support.  
  
Suddenly, Nilwethion gave a small, bitter laugh and wrapped his black cloak around his bare torso, his tunic having been ripped away from him by an orc when they were torturing him before they had reached the caves. His leggings and cloak were in a similar condition to Legolas' clothes, blood stained and ragged, though they were once one of the finest outfits in Mirkwood.  
  
"Look at us!" he cried, "Between us we must make a whole person!"  
  
He then turned around and walked quickly off in to the trees, followed by his brothers and Elladan. Running had become impossible, considering the injuries they had all sustained somehow or another, and jogging would only have irritated the wounds more.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The party of elves rode quietly through the forest of Mirkwood, ridding eastward. The hoods of their midnight blue cloaks hid their faces, and when they spoke, it was in hushed voices. The Mirkwood elves marched along side the horses of the Imladris elves, some climbing nimbly through the trees on either side of the dark path, not realising that their pregnant queen and princess were only meters away.  
  
Calensil still rode in front of the Lady Celebrian on the beautiful white palfrey. The small elfling clutched Lin the teddy bear to her chest, having decided to take him with her before leaving so she could mend his ear. If the ear was sewn back on, she reasoned, everything would be alright.  
  
Her fingers clutched nervously at the ancient toy as her blue eyes roamed around, searching the forest. Something in the forest was making her nervous. Her finely tuned senses were screaming, though what at she did not know. The small elf tugged on the silver sleeve of Celebrian, and from under the hood the elf smiled down at her in a motherly manner.  
  
"Yes, little one?"  
  
"What is coming?"  
  
Celebrian looked around at the forest. Not being used to the darkness of Mirkwood, she could not hear what the trees were whispering about, or how much more potent the evil was than usual.  
  
The beautiful wife of Elrond opened her mouth to answer, when she was interrupted by a yell from one of the Mirkwood guards behind her.  
  
The elves all snapped their heads around, just in time to see one of the elves that had been travelling through the trees fall from the branch with a dull thud, landing on his front. His limbs were sprawled on the ground, one twisted at a strange angle, and his hair covered his face, spread out around him like a halo.  
  
An arrow was embedded in his back.  
  
For a few moments, pandemonium reigned. The maidens began sobbing hysterically and screaming out, whilst the warriors of Imladris scrambled to find their weapons in the baggage. Captain Silnan began shouting out orders to his own warriors that were carried out within seconds of their issue. Five more Mirkwood elves dropped dead, also pierced by the deadly arrows.  
  
Then, almost as suddenly as it had begun, the panic came to an abrupt stop. Silence filled the forest as grinning orcs stepped out from the shadows and appeared in the treetops. Urshak strode out from the paths, twirling a scimitar in his one hand. A black cloak flowed out behind him and his armour gleamed in the half-light. His mouth widened in to what could be called a smile, showing every single one of his yellowing teeth. On one of his fingers of his sword hand rested a ring.  
  
"Lord Elrond," he said, his voice guttural and smug, "We ain't met, but I'm . . . acquainted . . . with yer son. One of the two. I hear ye've got twins. Quaint. But our fight ain't with yew. Tell yer nice li'l friends t' put down their weapons and we'll let yer live. Oh yeah, and we want the queen and the princess. We know ye've got them, so bring 'em out."  
  
Lord Elrond looked down at the smelly orc with disgust and hatred. He wrinkled his nose and let out a small huff of disdain. The elf lord clenched his fist around the hilt, moved his horse up beside the orc, and then slashed the sword down, cutting away the orcs' cloak. Urshak raised an eyebrow and took a few steps back, looking at Elrond with something akin to mirth.  
  
"I'll take that as a no then, shall I?"  
  
He clicked his ugly fingers together, and the orcs attacked the elves again ruthlessly. As Elrond reared his horse, two burly orcs jumped at him from the trees, knocking him to the ground. Scrambling to his feet, Elrond found himself fighting for his life.  
  
"Celebrian!" he shouted, hoping his wife would hear him, "Get the maidens out of here!"  
  
Giving a nod to show she heard the command, Celebrian turned her horse around and called out to the distressed maidens of her household. The ones who heard her gathered around the elvish lady, galloping after her back down the path and around the next bend . . .  
  
. . .Only to find their path blocked by more orcs. Turning around to call for the warriors, the maidens found that more orcs had come in behind them. A few orcs stepped out of the trees, trapping the Imladris ladies. The younger, more experienced ones began crying again and sobbing hysterically.  
  
From where she sat, confused, on her horse, queen Imlammthien looked around at the orcs. A dim light began to shine through her madness - a memory of something that had happened what seemed like years ago. The orcs had killed her babies. The more she looked at them, the more she was sure of them. Rage began to bubble inside her. The queen flicked the reigns of her horse and began to ride forwards, but a near by maiden pulled her back.  
  
Urshak swaggered forwards, still twirling his scimitar in his hand, and still wearing the smug look of triumph on his misshapen face. As soon as Elrond had been knocked from his horse, Urshak had stolen away from the path in to the dark shadow of the trees and taken a short cut to where he knew the ladies of Imladris would be. Some of his 'boys' had already been positioned there in the shadows, read and waiting.  
  
"Ye know," he said, in a conversational tone, "Yew elves are too predictable f' yer own good. Now give us the queen an' the princess, an' we'll let yer live. Be a good elfy now."  
  
Remembering how Urshak had hinted at 'knowing' her son, Celebrian threw a scowl at Urshak to rival that of her husbands'. She pulled back the hood of her cloak and looked haughtily down her nose at the orc standing before her. Wrapping her slender arms around the quivering Calensil, who was still sitting in front of her, the elven woman made her answer.  
  
"Never."  
  
Urshak laughed loudly, and his orcs joined in. To the maidens trapped in the centre of the orcs, their laughing sounded like a bell. The branches of the trees shook, shaking away many of their leaves to settle on the path below like a dappled carpet.  
  
"You killed my babies!"  
  
Urshak stopped laughing abruptly and looked at the speaker. Her hood had fallen down, revealing a pale, blonde elf with bright blue eyes and an equally bright dagger in her delicate hands. Her eyes radiated with fury and, Urshak realised, insanity. This was the queen. He tilted his head, being unable to raise an eyebrow, as he had none.  
  
"Arshin," he flicked his hand at the orc standing next to him, holding an ugly bow. The orc nodded and raised his bow. Urshak continued, carelessly.  
  
"Now, that's where yer wrong. They ain't dead yet, but they will be in a year or two. When me and my boys finish 'aving our little bit a' fun with 'em, see?"  
  
The queen raised her dagger to fling at Urshak when she dropped it and screamed in pain. A black arrow was sticking through the base of her hand, having gone in one side and out the other. Red blood began to flow down her wrist and arm, staining her long, blue sleeves. The horse reared, sending Imlammthien on to the ground with another cry of pain. Orcs swiftly grabbed hold of her arms, dress and hair and pulled her roughly to Urshak.  
  
They held the struggling queen down as Urshak, watched by the stunned and horrified Imladris ladies, drew his scimitar across her womb. Again, the queen screamed in pain, writhing in the grip of the orcs, now howling with laughter and delight.  
  
Urshak plunged his hand in to the open womb and dragged out the foetus of princess Hollinethir, laughing all the while. Many of the maidens screamed and fainted, or began sobbing hysterically in to the shoulders of their comrades. One of those to scream was Calensil.  
  
"Nana!" she howled, tears streaming down her cheeks, "Nana! No!" the small princess scrabbled to get to her mother, scratching and biting to make Celebrian let her go, but the lady of Imladris would have none of it. Still holding the newly dead foetus, Urshak began to walk slowly forwards towards the struggling princess. Then a voice issued from the shadows, deadly and silky.  
  
"That is our naneth and sister you just killed, Urshak."  
  
The orc swung around, his large, ugly mouth dropping open as he saw seven figures emerge from the shadows, each one holding a sharp, glittering weapon. The orc narrowed his eyes and hissed as he realised who his new advisories were.  
  
"That was not very nice now, was it?"  
  
The princes and Elladan swung their blades in a style similar to Urshak had used when he had swung his scimitar around not long ago.  
  
"You!" he hissed, shocked.  
  
"Us," replied Oroweth, his voice a growl, "And now we are going to kill you."  
  
Urshak hunched his back and hissed at the princes.  
  
"Kill 'em!" he screamed, "Kill 'em all!"  
  
Arshin raised his bow and loosed an arrow at Nuryávië. At such close range, he could not miss. The arrow struck Nuryávië in the chest, but the prince did not even blanch. He just looked down at the arrow, and then up at Arshin. The orc dropped his bow, staggered backwards, and then ran off in to the forest, closely followed by three more terrified orcs.  
  
"Hard to kill a dead elf, Urshak," said Nilwethion. His voice was almost a whisper. Again, Urshak hissed.  
  
An orc jumped at Elladan, his sword raised, but Elladan turned swiftly and beheaded the attacker with a single stroke. Another two orcs ran off, howling and hissing.  
  
The seven elves circled around Urshak, scowls and glares covering their faces.  
  
"You were going to kill us slowly, Urshak," said Elladan, "But you missed your chance. We do not like that. Goodbye, Urshak."  
  
With that, he stabbed Urshak in the chest. Another sword pierced Urshak from behind, cutting right through his flesh and emerging on the other side. Urshak felt more lades cutting in to him, being dragged out, and then being rammed in to his flesh again.  
  
Had he been able to, Urshak would have fallen to the ground, covering it with his blood. As it was, the seven sharp, elven blades kept him upright as the elves stabbed him again and again and again.  
  
At last, the young princes and their friend took a step back and let Urshak fall slowly to the ground. The adrenalin that had kept them upright left them, leaving them breathless, deadly tired, and not strong enough for them to lift a sword, even if not lifting it meant death. Oroweth turned to the other orcs.  
  
"Go," he hissed.  
  
Without needing to be told twice, the orcs fled the path and ran in to the forest. In the blink of an eye, there were no live orcs to be seen, not even in the dappled darkness away from the path. Down the path, out of sight, the elves could still hear the skirmish with the orcs who did not yet know that their leader had fallen.  
  
Calensil jumped down from the horse, and out of Celebrians grasp. She hurried over to her brothers and grabbed Legolas in to a hug. The prince gasped in pain, but wrapped his arms around the sobbing elfling.  
  
Slowly, the fair lady Celebrian dismounted her own horse and stumbled over to her son. They stared at each other for a moment, before she touched his filthy, blood and dirt covered face. Her lower lip trembled, and then she flung her arms around the prince, holding him so tightly he could hardly breathe.  
  
Stumbling over to their mother, the princes were aware of the eyes of the shocked maidens, who obviously did not understand what was going on. Nuryávië clenched his teeth and heaved the arrow out of his chest.  
  
"It hit a rib," he muttered dully.  
  
Thellind and Nilwethion dropped to the ground beside their dying mother, and tears escaped their eyes, slipping down their cheeks. Behind them, Nuryávië put his hand on Thellind's shoulder - partly as a comfort to his younger brother, but partly to keep himself from falling to the floor. Legolas and Calensil walked slowly to his side - Calensil still clutching Lin whose fur, what little of it there was left, was now blood stained, as was Calensil, after embracing Legolas. The prince himself was holding Calensil close to him protectively. Oroweth and Astaler walked up on the other side of Nilwethion, Astaler holding the foetus of his smallest sister in his arms.  
  
They did not notice as Celebrian finally pulled away from the embrace with her son and wave her hand at the other elves, indicating to them to leave the royal family in peace. Taking the hint, the elves turned their horses around and went further down the path so they were out of sight of the Mirkwood elves, but not close enough to the skirmish to be harmed.  
  
The queen, still alive but only just, raised a shaky hand to Thellind's face, and a small smile crossed her white face.  
  
"My . . . my Thellind? My little baby?"  
  
Thellind nodded, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around Imlammthien, letting her head rest on his arm.  
  
"I am dead then," she whispered, her voice hardly audible. Behind Thellind, Nuryávië choked back another sob. "I am dead," she repeated. "Where are the others? My babies?"  
  
Thellind cracked open his lips.  
  
"They are here nana," he whispered, "All around us."  
  
Nilwethion took hold of his naneths' other cold, shivering hand, salty tears falling down his face.  
  
"I love you, my darlings," she whispered.  
  
"I love you too, nana," replied Thellind.  
  
Then she was gone.  
  
Her dead hand slipped from Thellind's face and flopped across her still body. Astaler threw back his head and screamed, and then dropped to his knees, his body shaking as he sobbed uncontrollably. The others bowed their heads, and Calensil turned and buried her face in Legolas' ragged tunic, letting Lin drop to the forest floor.  
  
They were aloud no more time to mourn, however, as an orc, retreating down the path from the other skirmish, crashed down the path. Seeing the princes, he stopped and roared, making them look up. Calensil clutched at Legolas in terror and screamed loudly in a high-pitched wail. With a snarl, the orc raised his blade and flung it at the princess.  
  
It hit her in the heart, cutting her scream off abruptly. The tiny princess slumped forward in Legolas' arms, dead before she hit the ground.  
  
The princes froze. They did not have enough energy between them to even bruise the orc as it lumbered towards them, nor did they have enough energy to run away. As it drew another sword to kill Thellind with, the young prince did not even raise an arm to defend himself with.  
  
The orc never made the kill though, as an arrow appeared as if from nowhere through its chest. With a surprised look, the twisted creature fell backwards with a thud, its arm still raised for the kill.  
  
Lord Elrond stood there with a large bow in his hand. He lowered it slowly and took in the scene.  
  
"Forgive us," whispered Oroweth. Elrond blinked and stared at the princes.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Forgive us!" moaned Nuryávië, "Tell us we are forgiven Elrond, please! We beg you to forgive us!"  
  
The lord of Imladris stepped backwards and looked at the princes. Legolas had dropped to his knees and was cradling his dead sister in his hands. The others were all staring at him, desperate looks in their eyes.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"We killed them! It is our fault they died!" cried Astaler. The confused Elrond shook his head, looking at Thellind who was shaking violently and gasping for breath.  
  
"You did not kill them, prince Astaler," he said softly, "It was not your fault."  
  
"Ai, but it was! If we had only got here moments earlier, neither of them would be dead. If we had not asked you to take them to Imladris, they would not even have been on the path! Please Elrond, please forgive us! We did not mean to kill them."  
  
The ancient elf lord walked over to them and knelt down beside Astaler. He looked at the filthy, bedraggled, bloodstained, ragged princes and said quietly, "It was not you, prince of Mirkwood. You are blameless."  
  
Astaler looked as though he was about to argue, but instead he turned his head aside and wretched, coughing up black blood. He tried to cover his mouth, but the blood continued to spurt up through his throat and through his already blood covered fingers. As Elrond leapt back to avoid the blood, the other princes began to bring up blood as well, coughing and spluttering.  
  
As Captain Silnan jogged up to Elrond, his face falling in dismay as his eyes took in the dead queen and princess and the wretched princes he bowed his head. More elves of Mirkwood followed him, weapons still in their hands from the battle.  
  
At last, the princes seemed to stop coughing up the vile black blood, and Nilwethion looked up at Silnan and Elrond, and then back to the blood covering his hands.  
  
"Our blood," he whispered, seeing one of his wounds, "It . . . it is red again!"  
  
Then he slumped backwards, unconscious.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: this was a very long, emotional chapter. Obviously. It was very hard for me to write - probably the hardest thing I've written for ff.net before, even though I have killed various other characters. I kept getting tears in my eyes in the gut wrenching bits, which is very unlike me. Please leave a review. Remember, I love all reviews, but I love getting ramblers and constructive criticism even more. Choc chip 'n' cherry cookies for everybody who reviews. I'm so sorry Calensil; I'm so sorry Imlammthien! Please forgive me! I'm going to go off and mope and feel sorry for myself now.  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
LEXIE02 ~~ I take pride in my cliffhangers!  
  
PIRATE-CHICHA ~ oh but I LOVE long rambling reviews and long boring rants! They're wonderful!  
  
RAL ~~ well Calensil was about 7 until I killed her, Legolas is about 15 ish, Nilwethion is 17ish and Thellind is 18 or 19 ish. The other three are all adults. The younger two princes are at that very awkward stage where they think they're older than they are, and their parents think they're younger than they are.  
  
JUKIA WOLFCALL ~~ you're going to hate me now, aren't you? Did I put enough description in?  
  
MOONMIST ~~ sorry honey, Déjà Vu is going sometime in the next fortnight. Astaler knows they didn't kill them all before, but now the princes all think they killed their naneth and sister. Poor kiddies.  
  
LOTRSEER3350 ~~ I get it now! Are my stories really that transparent? Um, more combat scenes. *Starts sniffling again*  
  
LITTLE WITCH ~~ you can kiss them all if you really, really want to, but you might have to queue up for Legolas.  
  
SARA ~~ Bec is your sister? I didn't *have* to leave you on the edge of your seat, its just fun!  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~~ I get motion sickness very easily too. Especially on a boat or in the back of a car. That sounds like a very, very bad day. Well actually, they're all extremely badly hurt. Except maybe Elladan.  
  
COOLIO ~~ glad to see my cooking is appreciated!  
  
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~~ sanity? Hang on while I find a dictionary . . .  
  
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ why thank you.  
  
ELVENWITCH2 ~~ *beams* thank you! Wow, major compliment. Only, Treehuggers fics are much better than mine.  
  
EBONY FALCON ~~ eurgh, school is evil. I don't like school. They just make you do the same stuff over and over again until you know it off by heart. We may as well be chimps with pens. *I stole that quote, it isn't mine* 


	24. Life Goes On

CHAPTER 24 - Life Goes On  
  
To Legolas, it seemed that one moment he was bursting with pain and sorrow on the forest path that lead westward, and the next moment he was lying in a soft bed, surrounded by soft, melancholy voices. Opening his eyes, the young prince saw a blurry vision of Astaler smiling sadly down at him. The pain in his body was much better than he remembered it, but the pain in his soul was still throbbing. After a second or two, he remembered what had happened on the path and he let out a quiet moan.  
  
"How did I get here?" Legolas whispered. His throat was dry and his voice came out as a croak. Astaler held out a glass of water, and Legolas sipped at it.  
  
"You collapsed a few moments after Silnan arrived and they brought us back all back here. The opened the tomb that night and adar has been heartbroken. He has not left naneths side." The older prince looked down at his feet. A ray of hope flickered in Legolas' heart.  
  
"She is alive?"  
  
Astaler shook his head slowly, his face a mask of sorrow.  
  
"No. She and Calensil . . . and Hollinethir . . . are to be laid to rest in the tomb as soon as the others are awake."  
  
Legolas tried to pull himself up in to a sitting position, but found that he was too weak. Instead, he turned his eyes upwards to the ceiling.  
  
"How are the others?"  
  
"Nuryávië and Nilwethion are up, and so is Elladan. You ought to see him with Elrohir. They will not leave each other's side - it is as though they have been sewn together. Astaler has still not woken up yet and Thellind . . . we are not sure about Thellind. His eyes are open, but he will not react to anything. He still has not spoken a word, but now he will not move either. Nilwethion says he was crying yesterday, and that is the most we can get out of him."  
  
Legolas shut his eyes. The young prince found that the world was somehow easier to understand when he had his eyes shut, as he did not have to think about what he was seeing, only how he felt and what he heard. This time however, the world seemed to become more confusing and his ears began to buzz.  
  
"How long was I asleep?" he asked. Astaler coughed slightly.  
  
"Six days," he replied.  
  
Suddenly there came the sound of the door shutting and Legolas and Astaler jumped, terrified. They whipped their heads towards the door and saw Nilwethion and Nuryávië standing there. Nilwethion bit his lip and winced apologetically. The pair walked quietly over to Legolas and sat down. Nuryávië perched on the edge of a chair next to Astaler, and Nilwethion sat down on the end of the bed.  
  
"We have just seen Thellind," said Nilwethion, after a moment of silence. Legolas looked around the room for the first time since he woke up, avoiding looking at the prince. He realised he was in one of the sterile healing rooms. Candles flickered from where they had been placed on tables and chairs, this being one of the many rooms where there were no windows, and it reminded him suddenly of the dingy cell the orcs had thrown him in to. He shivered involuntarily.  
  
"Astaler told me about him," replied the blonde prince, and then after a small pause he added, "I want to see him. Where is he?"  
  
"Only next door, but the healers are with him. We left when they turned up,"  
  
From where he lay, Legolas noticed his three brothers shifting uneasily when the healers were mentioned. He wondered why, but even as he thought about it a little voice said in the back of his head 'They must judge you, because you killed your naneth and your sisters'.  
  
He tried to ignore the snide little voice, but somehow he found it very hard to ignore.  
  
"I want to see him . . . when they have gone, that is," Legolas said quietly. He tried to swing his legs over the side of his bed, but again he found he hardly had enough energy. After a few moments of mental struggle, sheer obstinate will power prevailed, and Legolas sat up next to Nilwethion. He shifted slightly so their shoulders were almost touching, as he found himself feeling uneasy, as if he was being watched.  
  
"They will be there for a while. We could go and see Oroweth, if you like," said Astaler, looking around at the door, as if he expected it to bang open revealing masses of orcs. Legolas flicked his own eyes up at the door, and even as he looked at it the door became an object of terror, as if hiding unseen foes.  
  
"I think I would like that," he replied. Nuryávië stood up and wrapped his leafy green cloak around Legolas' shoulders, after pulling it away from his own. It revealed a dull tunic, and equally dull leggings in earthy browns. It took a few seconds to realise why he found this strange, before Legolas remembered that Nuryávië always wore much brighter colours and that it was strange to see him now in such a bland outfit.  
  
Legolas, Nilwethion and Astaler stood up and looked around the room before half opening the door and slipping through the small gap.  
  
In the brightly lit corridor, Legolas blinked owlishly and swayed slightly. He clutched hold of Nilwethion's arm to steady himself, so Nilwethion wrapped an arm around the blonde princes' shoulders. The younger prince smiled gratefully before following Astaler and Nuryávië to the room where the eldest of the princes lay.  
  
Thankfully, they met no elves on the way, but they did hear a minstrel lamenting the three royals who had so recently died. The four looked in the direction of the high, sweet voice with guilt and terror. They moved quickly on down the corridor, trying not to think of the orc caves that had been made in so similar a way, even if it was with much less skill or care.  
  
When the voice of the minstrel had faded in to the background, Astaler, Nuryávië and Nilwethion stopped abruptly at a large, highly ornate, dark door and pushed it open with a creak. There was a gasp from inside, and the first thing Legolas saw of the room was Oroweth lying in a bed similar to the one he had been in not so long ago, the white sheets crumpled and wrinkled. His eyes appeared to be sunken and were surrounded by heavy, dark rings and his skin was pale - so very, very pale. The skin on his cheeks clung to the bone, as did the skin on his hands and arms. His hair had, at some point, been cut to shoulder length, as it had become a mass of tangles and knots worse than the thorn bushes of Mordor, and as filthy as the orcs living there. Legolas wondered how he had not noticed the signs of captivity in the caves, or when they were running for their lives.  
  
As Oroweth realised who it was, the initial fear left him, although there was still terror hidden deep in his eyes. Weeks of being held captive by orcs was not an easy experience to forget in a hurry. The four princes moved gracefully over to the side of his bed.  
  
"Astaler said you were still asleep," said Legolas, as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Astaler looked at him through the dull, hollow eyes.  
  
"Elladan and Elrohir said you were still asleep," came the reply. Oroweth sounded tired and worn out, though he had done nothing for days but lie in bed recovering. Legolas wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to the three elves in the caves. He decided that this was not the best time to ask.  
  
"Elladan and Elrohir are here?" asked Astaler with surprise. He jumped and swung around, as there came a small laugh from behind them. Elladan and Elrohir were standing there, dressed in identical outfits as they had when the two families had first met, their arms linked together as if they never intended to let each other go again. The twins grinned at Legolas.  
  
"We did not know you were up. The last we knew was that the healers said you would not be awake for another week or two at least."  
  
"They said that?" asked the prince, furrowing his brow. Beside him, his brothers had different worries.  
  
"We did not realise you were there," whispered Astaler. He was clearly shocked and distraught. As Legolas thought about it, he could understand why. Being unable to sense the presence of another being in Mirkwood could spell death for all and sundry, and having not long escaped the orcs they were all still on edge.  
  
"We did not want you to realise we were here. We thought you were the healers. Adar came by earlier. That was when Oroweth woke up."  
  
Astaler opened his mouth, but then shut it again and shook his head, biting his lip. He was hiding something, and Legolas could tell. He was about to ask what it was, when Elrohir spoke so quickly he almost tripped over his own words.  
  
"Do not start that again Astaler," he warned. It was obviously enough because Astaler looked away, hiding his face behind a curtain of dark brown hair. Elrohir relaxed again, and they turned back to Oroweth. Looking on the bright side, Legolas considered, at least Oroweth was no longer covered in blood and dirt.  
  
The young prince pulled his legs up on to the bed and rested his back against the foot of the oak bed. He sneaked his feet under the white, silky sheets to warm them up and rested his chin on his knees, hunching his shoulders.  
  
"Oroweth," he began, "What did they do to you in the caves?"  
  
The 'they' was obviously the orcs, and the occupants of the room shivered as one, their skin crawling at the bad memories. Elladan and Elrohir stiffened - their special bond apparently renewed somehow. Oroweth closed his eyes for a few seconds, and then opened them again as flashes of memory became too scary to handle.  
  
"You have already asked, when we were in the caves. They did nothing."  
  
"What did they . . . what did they not tell you?"  
  
The black haired prince looked up at his sibling with fear in his eyes. The fear quickly turned to an angry fire, but all he did was turn his head away. Elladan let out a small choke and lent heavily on his twin.  
  
"Oroweth?" asked Nilwethion, "Please tell us. We are not like adar or the others."  
  
"They starved us, and kept us in complete darkness" whispered Oroweth. His voice was so low Legolas had to strain his ears, "And they told us we were stupid and treacherous. They said we were weak and pathetic, and that we were not good enough to lick their boots clean. They threatened to rip our throats out with our claws if we sang. Urshak said we do not deserve to be elves, let alone the princes of Mirkwood. He said we adar and naneth hated us, and that we are the reason they died. How did he know, Legolas? How did he know it was our fault? They were not even dead yet, but he knew."  
  
The room was filled with silence as the words sank in, and Oroweth slid under the covers. The shape that was Oroweth began to shake with silent tears under the silky white sheets. At last Nuryávië spoke. His voice was thick and he kept his eyes on the green matt beneath their feet as he spoke.  
  
"He was right."  
  
Elrohir gaped at the princes, as none of them even thought to argue with Nuryávië. The young elf looked around at the depressive faces that surrounded him.  
  
"You truly believe that?" he gasped, "You believe an orc?"  
  
Legolas looked up at the Imladris elf and began fiddling with his spotless, white sleeve and nodded once.  
  
"Aye."  
  
"But why?"  
  
As Legolas put his hand on the quivering form of Oroweth, who was still under the sheets, Astaler Nilwethion looked sharply at the twins.  
  
"It was our fault naneth and Calensil and Hollinethir are dead. We were too late to save them. We suggested that they should go to Imladris until it was safe. If we had not, they would not be dead now. If adar truly loved us, he would have looked at us at least once since Silnan and your adar brought us back, would he not? Instead he cries and weeps by naneths body and ignores us as though we are not here. Why would he do that if he did not hate us?"  
  
Elrohir opened his mouth to reply, but no answer came. There was no answer that could come. There was just no answer to such a stubborn belief.  
  
That was when the door opened.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
King Thranduil of Mirkwood held the hand of his dead queen as she lay on the specially prepared bed, dressed in a fine black dress, embroidered with beads that had been sewn in by her weeping handmaidens when they had been told everything that had happened. A lacy black veil lay over her cold, pale face and black velvet gloves covered her hands. Not far away lay Calensil in similar attire. Next to Calensil, wrapped in a black shawl, lay the foetus of Hollinethir.  
  
The ancient king was no longer crying. He no longer had any tears left, nor any energy to cry with.  
  
He was sitting on a low stool with three legs and no back. There was no carving on it and no other form of decoration, unlike anything else he owned. The rest of the small room was similar to the stool, being simple and minimalist, with nothing there that was not essential. A small fire flickered in a hearth, and there were seven brackets on the walls torches were burning away, and they had been for the past few days.  
  
The door opened, revealing a healer, accompanied by Silnan. Thranduil did not look up, but carried on staring at his beloved, dead wife. Silnan and the healer were both holding white, flickering candles and the room around them brightened up. The healer cleared her throat. Still, Thranduil did not look up.  
  
"Your majesty?" said Silnan. Thranduil raised his head, but did not turn around.  
  
"My lord Thranduil, Legolas and Oroweth have awoken," said the healer, in a timid voice. She looked at Silnan with a worried glance.  
  
"Your majesty, will you not see your sons?" asked Silnan. His polished mithril armour glinted in the firelight, and shadows danced on his dark green cloak and tunic. At last, Thranduil answered.  
  
"My sons hate me," he said. His voice was full of pain.  
  
Again, the healer looked at the captain of the guard. She had heard about the argument between the princes and the king not long ago, before the first 'death' of the royal couple and their daughter. Who had not? Good news in Mirkwood travelled like a forest fire.  
  
"My king . . ." she began. The king interrupted her.  
  
"Go!"  
  
When neither of them moved, the king turned around and glared at them angrily.  
  
"I said go!"  
  
The unfortunate elves fled from the room as the king turned back to the body of Imlammthien and whispered; "Where did I go wrong, Immy? What did I do to deserve this? Am I such a bad ada?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Not so dramatic as the last chapter. Update days are moving back to Sundays, due to that evil, evil thing they call school and the even more evil thing they call homework. Very bad chapter title, I know, but inspiration left me, as my muses were busy trying to kill each other. Oh yeah, and I have a new vignette up on the Mirkwood family that you might like to read *hint hint*. Why did so many of you not mention Imlammthien at all, even though she had a worse death than Calensil? Did you all hate her that much?  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
DRAGONFLY ~ *I* don't believe I killed them either. Makes two of us! (  
  
LITTLE WITCH ~ ah, but wouldn't it be boring if everything happened the way you expected it to?  
  
LEXIE02 ~ sad? Yes, very sad. I love writing tragedy, heh.  
  
ICED1 ~ aye, Calensil is dead. So is the queen, as it happens. You didn't mention her, even though her death was much nastier. Didn't you like her?  
  
ALIVYAN ~ another reviewer who doesn't seem to like Imlammthien, lol. Poor queen. A happy ending isn't really possible, but I won't be making it too tragic. Don't worry, Middle earth won't implode. That only happens with the unchaining of Melkor some time in the very distant future. I won't be killing everyone else either, as many of them are needed for the next fic, which I have planned, as it happens. I probably will post a preview when I finish this fic, but that'll be a while yet. As for how many chapters there I, I'm not quite sure.  
  
ORODRUIN ~ There are still quite a few chapters to come, I think. Yes, all three of them are gone but no, the princes haven't recovered yet. Well, they've got a lot better in body, but their minds have been a wee bit messed up. They should be ok again by the end of the fic. About ending on a happy note, I'll see what I can do. It might end up being bitter sweet.  
  
COOLIO02 ~ I found it hard to believe as well. You have no idea how much I hated myself for killing them off.  
  
NIKKIFER ~ sad is about right.  
  
MOONMIST ~ be careful hugging Lin. He's very fragile. No, that wasn't the last chapter. Nor is this one.  
  
PIRATE-CHICHA ~ *hands tissues*  
  
ELIZABETHBLACK4 ~ lol. Yes, there is more to come. You expect me to update every day? Whoa, I don't think I could keep up with that. School gets in the way. It was Silnan who told the king, although you don't get to see that bit.  
  
JUKIA WOLFCALL ~ I made you cry? *Hands tissues* I hated writing it as well, so I get what you mean.  
  
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~ just because I write fictions well enough to get over 250 reviews doesn't mean I don't desperately need a dictionary 85% of the time. You should see the amount of spelling mistakes on the un-edited versions of the chapters! My spell checker hates me. Imlammthien just *did* die in an orc attack. What did you mean? I would lend you the dictionary, but I always need it. You can borrow the thesaurus if you like though.  
  
RAL ~ nah, she had to die there. Death is better than having a messed up mind, I think. Besides, the orcs are gone, so what would she die of later?  
  
SHANYA ~ Calensil and Imlammthien agree with you. They didn't think it was fair either.  
  
TAMARA ~ I've updated . . . 


	25. Conspiricy of Imladris

CHAPTER 25 - Conspiracy of Imladris  
  
"But adar," came a voice, "They will not find healing here, nor will they find rest."  
  
"I have told you once Elladan, no. Do not make me tell you again!"  
  
A large door banged open, revealing Lord Elrond marching through his chambers in deep crimson and gold embroidered robes, followed closely by his two sons who were trying to persuade him to let them have their way. As usual, they were loosing.  
  
"But adar . . ."  
  
The angry elf lord of Imladris turned around and the twins stopped in their tracks. Glaring, Elrond held up a hand to stop them talking.  
  
"What healing do you think they will find in Imladris? They are already facing so much inner-turmoil that if they have any more burdens added they will not be able to take it! They must be somewhere they know and are familiar with if they wish to ever come out of their darkness!"  
  
Elladan looked earnestly in to his fathers' dark eyes. He brushed a loose strand of dark hair out of his face and was silent for a few moments, thinking about what how to word what he was going to say. At last, he spoke slowly and carefully.  
  
"I found healing in a strange place adar. How can you say that they will not? They have so many memories here of the very things that are stopping them finding peace. Imladris is so calm and serene - just what they need. Here everyone knows their story, and they think that their own people are blaming them for what happened. In Imladris, that would not happen. The shadow that lurks here is intimidating them. Please adar, let us take them back to Imladris when we leave!"  
  
A silent struggle of will power between Elrond and the twins drew out time, as neither force was willing to give in to the other. Even though he had Vilya, the mightiest of the three elven rings, Elrond was beginning to have difficulty overruling his sons in this battle of wills. Had they been left to themselves, they probably would have stood there for hours, immersed in their silent battle, but as it was they did not have to. The door to the room swung open again and Lady Celebrian slipped through the door in a yellow silk dress that swished as she walked and glinted as light caught the beads sewn on to the bodice and skirt. She frowned.  
  
"Elrond my dear, what is this? Arguing with your sons already?"  
  
She swept across the cold stone floor and her skirts rustled as she moved. The elven maiden wrapped her arms around her sons' waists protectively, and Elrond sighed.  
  
"Celebrian my darling, Elladan and Elrohir wish to bring the princes back to Imladris with us for a while. They seem to believe that if the poor things stay here for much longer they will fall in to shadow and despair, eventually being forced to take a ship west across the sea or to be taken to the halls of Mandos. I have been attempting to tell them that this is not about to happen, but they are being stubborn," he folded his arms, and the three male elves stared at Celebrian, leaving the final decision to her. She frowned and rested her fingers gently on her lips, as she always did when thinking deeply.  
  
At last, the beautiful elven woman reached a decision. As she took her fingers away from her lips, she could hear the intake of breath from her husband and sons as they awaited her answer with anticipation.  
  
"I think we ought to take them with us," she said calmly. The second she had finished her sentence, the elven lady found herself being grasped in to an almost suffocating embrace by her overjoyed sons. Elrond, however, was not so happy about the decision. He stood on the brown rug in the centre of the room with his mouth hanging open, dumbfounded. His lips were pursed and his brow was furrowed as he came to terms with loosing the argument.  
  
"Celebrian . . ." he began, but she held up a delicate, pale hand for silence. Elladan and Elrohir, still beaming happily, linked their arms with hers, smirking at their father.  
  
"Now all of you listen, and we shall come to a compromise. We shall ask the princes themselves if they wish to come. If they say 'aye' we will take them, and if they say 'nay' we shall not even mention it to them again. If they do say 'aye' then nobody from Mirkwood is to know. We leave here, and once we have been gone two days, Mithrandir will tell Thranduil where they have gone, and then Thranduil will come after us, demanding the return of his sons, thus proving that he loves them. That is one of their major dilemmas, is it not? Believing he hates them?" The elven lady looked around at her family, content with her decision. Elrond had to admit that he had married an extremely good diplomat.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
There had been no movement in the room since Silnan and the healer had fled from Thranduil in terror. The heartbroken king had turned around on his low stool, and had not moved again, his sad eyes resting on the face of his dead beloved.  
  
The door creaked open slowly, letting in bright light from the corridor. Lord Elrond stepped in to the room carefully and shut the door.  
  
"King Thranduil," he said, his voice quiet and respectful, "My people and I do not wish to intrude upon your realm in a time of such distress. We will leave the day after the funeral of your queen and daughters."  
  
Thranduil stood up slowly, pushing himself up, and turned around to face the elven lord. As the pair locked their eyes, Elrond felt a wave of the emotional pain that Thranduil had been feeling so recently.  
  
"They say that my sons will not let any close to them, save your sons," he said. The voice of the king, once so full of pride and power, now sounded small and lost and, if Elrond was any judge, slightly accusing.  
  
The dark haired lord nodded his head once.  
  
"Aye, 'tis true," came the reply. Elrond wondered how Thranduil knew, if he had not left the room.  
  
"I hear them whispering and speaking in low tones about in outside the door as if I am deaf," said the king sadly; as if he knew exactly what Elrond was thinking. "Why will they not let their own people even see them for more than a fraction of a second?"  
  
To this, Elrond had no answer, being one of the many people the princes fled from. King Thranduil carried on regardless.  
  
"Legolas . . . my youngest son . . . he found a maiden on the night of the feast, before all of this happened. She was from Imladris. Will he let her close?"  
  
Elrond was silent for a moment, trying to remember if he had heard anything from the young elf recently. He seemed to remember seeing her crying when the messenger orc had appeared, and then again more recently when the young prince had been brought back to the halls unconscious, but since then he had heard little of her. Celebrian would know.  
  
"I do not believe so your majesty, but it is possible. I will ask Celebrian."  
  
The king of Mirkwood nodded once and sat back down on his stool, turning his back to the powerful elf lord standing close to the large door. Although Elrond would usually have taken it as a great insult, he was sure that it was not a thing Thranduil would usually do so he rose above it. Believing it to be a dismissal, the elf put his hand on the door handle to leave, when Thranduil spoke one last time.  
  
"Tell Silnan to make sure Culkemen is promoted to captaincy."  
  
Elrond nodded, wondering for a few moments that Culkemen was before remembering that Silnan had mentioned her as being the warrior who had doubled as the queen. The elf frowned disapprovingly - women should not have to fight. He left the room quickly and quietly, shutting the door behind him and leaving the king in peace. The elf lord hurried off to make preparations for leaving. If the funeral was set for the next day, that would leave them only two more days in Mirkwood.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Having escaped the clutches of the healers, Legolas and his brothers were gathered in a little circle around four small items in the room Calensil used to sleep in. Sad music could be heard playing faintly from the throne room in the form of a high, female voice and a harp.  
  
The items in the middle of the princes were a sprig of holly, a ring with the ensign of their house, a shinning white gem that once belonged to their mother and Lin the teddy bear, who was now more shabby than ever - blood matting his fur and staining the bald patches. Somewhere along the way his eye, the original one, had fallen out and stuffing had begun to fall out of one leg. Astaler had added a button in the place of the lost eye shortly after returning from the orc caves, and had mended the ear with a scrap of fabric. The princes had tried to make him sit upright, but the bear fell over every time they let go of him so they gave up. The ring, of course, was the one Urshak had taken from Neldoreth, rescued on the path by Nuryávië.  
  
Around the room there were eleven white candles lit, one for every member of their family, alive or dead. A little while ago, the princes had been lamenting the dead members of their family, apart from Thellind who still refused to speak, but now they were sitting in silence, just remembering them.  
  
Outside the door, footsteps approached and the princes tensed, listening to the footsteps getting closer. When the footsteps reached the door, made by two people, they stopped. As the door handle moved, the princes moved faster than any mortal could possibly have done.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
When Elladan and Elrohir poked their heads around the door, the room was dark and still as if nobody was there.  
  
"Hello?" called Elrohir softly, "Are you here? It is only us."  
  
The dark shadows remained still and silent as the twins slid silently in to the room.  
  
"Are you sure they said they would be here? Is this the right room?" Elrohir. Elladan nodded.  
  
"Aye, and they are here. Look, the candles are still smoking slightly. They have only just been put out."  
  
The twins waited a moment, before the six princes emerged from their hiding places around the room. Astaler re-lit the torches as the Mirkwood elves stared at the Imladris elves. Elladan and Elrohir shifted uncomfortably under such close scrutiny. Their eyes took in the items on the floor, and they realised that they had probably just interrupted something very important.  
  
"We apologise for interrupting, but adar has told us that we will be going back to Imladris the day after tomorrow. We were wondering . . . well, we were wondering if you would like to come back with us for a while," Elladan told them. The princes stared back at them, letting the words sink in.  
  
"Us? Go to Imladris?" whispered Oroweth in shock, "You mean we would be welcome?"  
  
The twins nodded, and then there was another pause.  
  
"I have never left Mirkwood," muttered Legolas, to himself as much as to anybody else. His brothers nodded.  
  
"None of us have," said Astaler  
  
"I have once," Oroweth countered slowly, "I once went to Dale with adar and naneth. I do not remember much though, as I was only a small elfling at them time."  
  
"You have always been small, and still are, my dear brother," whispered Nilwethion. Oroweth glowered at him and drew back, but Elladan and Elrohir grinned at each other. If Nilwethion made a joke, then that must mean that he was on the mend.  
  
"So will you come back to Imladris with us?" asked Elrohir. The princes looked at each other uneasily.  
  
"Perhaps it would be best," said Nuryávië, "Adar hates us, so we will not be in his way any more."  
  
His brothers nodded sincerely.  
  
"We would not be getting in your way, would we?" asked Oroweth nervously. The twins shook their heads.  
  
The princes all began to look brighter, except Thellind who drew behind Nilwethion and whimpered quietly. The silent prince had never left Mirkwood, and did not want to. He loved the trees, and he had lived under their shadow all their life. As Elrond had argued earlier in the day, he was unlikely to find peace in a strange place he had never been. He was outvoted, however, and refused to be without his brothers who were his only source of comfort.  
  
"We will come with you," said Legolas. The twins smiled. They had won over their father. Again.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: I know, I know, short chappie. I'm very sorry! It's just that school has started pilling on the homework, and I've hardly had a moment to myself. Writing a nice long chapter would just take up too much time needed for evil homework.  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
ICED1 ~ I can understand what you mean, but I still really liked her.  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~ *panics* ai Eru, I can't believe that I forgot you! Um, here, have a basket full of cookies to make up for it. *Grovels* I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean to skip you out. Nope, I'm not finished with this fic yet.  
  
LEXIE02 ~ yeah, school's a drag. I can't wait to go to collage.  
  
LITTLE WITCH ~ don't worry, they figure out eventually that they were both wrong.  
  
ORODRUIN ~ yay, goodie, long review! Thranduil would feel guilty for the deaths, but he's just stopped thinking about anything and gone blank. Bits of the fic are going to be more dialogue based now, but there are still going to be action bits as well. A nice little mix of both. They will patch it up, but there's a whole big misunderstanding due to lack of communication first. Thank you for reviewing the other fic as well! There's going to be a prequel to this one when I finish it, but it isn't going to be happy. It'll actually be quite depressing, I think. I've got quite a few fics planned after that but your idea for a short fic on one of their pranks sounds good.  
  
TAMARA ~ updated! Thank you.  
  
JUKIA WOLFCALL ~ *is afraid, is very afraid* don't worry; the finish won't be anything like Déjà Vu. Yeesh, that was a bad fic! I can't help being mean, I just like tragedy!  
  
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~ that was . . . short. What, only okay?  
  
EBONY FALCON ~ I think that that's part of the reason, but they all blame themselves for their naneth and sisters dying anyway. Everything in my stories always seems to be a little mixed up . . . except in My Little Sister. That's not messed up, just me having a little fun with fluff.  
  
COOLIO02 ~ yes, it is quite sad, isn't it? 


	26. Of Rain and Tears

CHAPTER 26 - Of Rain And Tears  
  
Tears streamed unchecked down Legolas' face as the young prince watched the bodies of his mother and his sisters being carried in to the tomb of his family. His brothers stood beside him, also crying silently as they watched the funeral. King Thranduil was standing silently opposite Oroweth, but none of the princes would even look at the king, being too scared that he would be glaring hatefully back at them.  
  
Legolas felt an arm curl around his shoulders, and around to see Nilwethion looking back at him. Both their visions were clouded with salty tears. The prince turned back to the funeral procession, drawing closer to the protection of his older brother.  
  
As two members of the Royal Guard sealed the entrance of the tomb, a wind began to whistle westward through the trees, and whipped the hair of the watching elves around their faces and tugged at their cloaks.  
  
A particularly strong gust of wind ripped the broach away from Legolas' cloak, and as he tried to grab it, the black, embroidered cloak was lifted high in to the air. It was blown past the flags that were all flying at half mast and drifted away over the forest. As he watched his cloak flying away, Legolas felt spots of rain begin to fall on his pale, tear stained face. The skies were filled with dark clouds, but the young prince had not noticed them gathering until now.  
  
Nilwethion drew his arm away from around Legolas' shoulders to wrap his cloak around himself, as the tears he was crying mixed with the rain. On the other side of Legolas, Thellind gave a small whimper. As the rain fell more heavily, the elves pulled up the hoods of their cloaks, and Legolas found a blue cloak being wrapped around his shoulders. He turned around in astonishment to see the pitying face of Celebrian looking at her own. The beautiful elven lady had not cried once during the ceremony, but her eyes were misting up as she looked in to the eyes of the blonde prince.  
  
"You poor dear," she whispered, and gave Legolas a light kiss on his cheek. When Legolas tried to take the cloak of to give it back to the lady of Imladris, she put her slender hand on his and shook his head.  
  
"No, my dear, keep the cloak,"  
  
She turned around, and with a swish of her white dress, she moved back to stand with her own family.  
  
"I pity them," she whispered to Elrond, as a single flute began to play a sad melody from the trees, "When they need the love of their adar most, they deny it. All they are doing is making their own wounds deeper."  
  
Lord Elrond nodded as he observed the six mourning princes, all dressed in black. A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. He then turned to look at his own sons who were standing next to him, and thought of his daughter Arwen who was currently in Lothlorien with her grandparents. The elven lord then tried to imagine how much pain he would feel if he ever lost one of them, or his wife. The mere thought of it was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He blinked them away and turned back to the beautiful Celebrian.  
  
"Three more days, Celebrian, and they will have that love back."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: If you are wondering why this chapter is so short. . . I don't really have a reasonable explanation. Sorry. It's because it's not *really* this weekends chapter - I'm updating again tomorrow. This was only to make up for the lack of chapter last week. I'm also not really in a writing mood at the moment, so if I had written anything else, it would have been terrible.  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
ELIZABETHBLACK4 - aww, don't cry! *Gives Elizabethblack4 Kleenex*  
  
LARVLE - that was only part of the conspiracy. The "conspiracy" bit was conning Thranduil in to thinking his sons had really deserted him, to prove to both the adar and the sons that neither side hated the other.  
  
ORODRUIN - yes, I had thought about that. It's a worst case scenario. It all depends on how Mithrandir tells Thranduil where the princes are. If he says "Your sons have gone to Imladris because they think you hate them, and only by going to find them can you prove you actually love them" then it would all work out fine. If he says "your sons went to Imladris when Lord Elrond and his household left" then yes, Thranduil is far more likely to see things the way you suggested in the review. You'll just have to wait to see what happens.  
  
LOTRSEER3350 - *gapes* *checks last review list* AI! I forgot you! *Hits head against wall* I'm so sorry! *Gives Lotrseer3350 basket of cookies* 'm so, SO sorry! *Giggles* my dear, Aragorn hasn't even been born yet. His *grandfather* hasn't even been born yet!  
  
MAVERICKGIRL - to know that, you will have to wait until next week. Or maybe the week after, depending on journey time.  
  
COOLIO02 - sad and depressing is my specialty. I *do* write other genre's, see My Little Sister, but I'm best at angsty and depressing things.  
  
LEXIE02 - sorry it was so short. Tomorrow's will be nice and long though.  
  
ICED1 - fun? Yes, they might have fun. I doubt it though, they're still very depressed, and aren't likely to come out of the shock any time soon.  
  
IMBEFANIEL - nobody should get used to that sort of thing! It's not right. Don't worry, the promise has been kept.  
  
TAMARA - thankyou! Updated.  
  
KAKYUU3 - thankyou!  
  
LARVLE - aww, I'm sorry to have got your hopes up like that. Good luck with the homework!  
  
ELIZABETHBLACK4 - aye, poor princes indeed.  
  
MOONMIST - ah, but writing usually comes way before school work. I do want to be a professional writer, after all.  
  
ORODRUIN - Normal? Y-e-s dear. *Edges away slowly*  
  
SLG - I've updated!  
  
JUKIA WOLFCALL - *grins* *curtseys to loving audience* why thankyou, my darlings! I love you all too! Hm. . .what's that? AI! Bad fic! Please never mention it again! *Looks around nervously* we never wrote that, did we precious? No, no we didn't.  
  
GILRAEN3 - oh sweet! Thankyou! 


	27. Namarie, Mirkwood

CHAPTER 27 - Namárië, Mirkwood  
  
In the dull, grey light of dawn, the princes of Mirkwood, each one covered with a cloak like the ones the elves of Imladris wore, sat on their horses with the rest of the Imladris host, hidden from view. Not too far away, Lord Elrond was speaking softly in Sindarin with Captain Silnan. The faithful captain was to ride along with the Imladris elves for the first day of the journey before turning back for the halls.  
  
As prince Legolas watched the captain from under his hood, guilt burned in his heart. He felt terrible for deceiving the captain of Mirkwood who he had known all his life. Then again, many of the tongue lashings he had received for various pranks and jokes had come from the very same elf. The more Legolas thought about it, the more it became clear that Silnan hated him, just like all the other elves of Mirkwood.  
  
Lord Elrond and Captain Silnan whispered something to their horses, and the horses began to trot down the path. As soon as the two horses had begun to move, all the other horses followed suit. Legolas looked around for what he suspected would be the last time at the only place he had ever known as home.  
  
One of the younger guards accompanying the Imladris elves was watching Legolas closely. The young prince gasped when he realised, and quickly turned his head around, pulling at the hood of his cloak so his face was completely shadowed. Nilwethion, who was ridding beside him, nudged Legolas.  
  
"What is it?" he whispered.  
  
"I think the guard just behind us to our right is watching me," replied Legolas in low tones. Nilwethion turned his head slightly to look, and his eyes locked with those of the guards for a moment. The guard looked a little confused for a moment, but then turned away.  
  
"I do not know him, and I certainly hope he did not recognise us, little Greenleaf. No doubt if he does recognise us, he will tell Captain Silnan. I will go and tell the others." The elder of the two princes increased the speed of his horse to catch up with the other princes, who were in front, ridding close to Elladan and Elrohir.  
  
Nilwethion, Oroweth and Astaler became deeply embedded in a conversation about the watching guard, and Nuryävié and Thellind were ridding someway behind Legolas, leaving the young prince alone. For a while, the elf was content just to look around and look at the dark trees around him, and listen to the sounds in the shadows made by the squirrels and birds. As they continued deeper in to the forest, even though it was morning, the light grew less and less. The guards lit their torches, and held the flames above their heads as they did when hunting.  
  
By mid-day, Legolas realised that Nilwethion had forgotten about him, as the prince had now begun talking quietly with Elladan and Elrohir. The young prince did not mind very much though, and began to hum softly to himself, soothing the sadness in his heart. An elf on a dappled grey horse trotted up next to Legolas and pulled back her hood.  
  
It was Aliela.  
  
Legolas blinked in surprise, having not seen her since the day they wee attacked by orcs in the pool. The day disaster and tragedy had shaken the lives of the Mirkwood royal family. Aliela smiled nervously at him.  
  
"Well met, prince Legolas," she said quietly. Having got over his initial shock at seeing the elven maiden, Legolas smiled back at her.  
  
"Well met indeed, Lady Aliela," he replied  
  
They rode in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say to each other. At last, Legolas asked tentatively; "How is your leg?"  
  
"Much better than it was, thankyou," replied the elven maiden shyly, "Though your healers kept me in bed for almost a week. How did you escape their clutches so quickly?"  
  
A shadow of a smile crossed Legolas' face as he recalled the many times he had been dragged or carried along to the healers, each time to be met with a roll of the eyes and a disapproving tut.  
  
"I have had plenty of practise," he said, looking in to Aliela's pretty eyes. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain further. Legolas carried on.  
  
"Once, for instance, Nilwethion and I were looking after Calensil - Thellind was with some of the novices, training - and we were clambering about in the trees. Calensil was only small at the time, so she overbalanced and fell off the branch. I caught her just in time, but fell off the branch myself, grabbed hold of Nilwethion's arm and pulled him off by accident. Luckily he managed to hook his leg around the branch, but we were left swinging there, completely stuck. Astaler passed by, and I dropped Calensil in to his arms, but then he left Nilwethion and I swinging there because we left nettles in his bed the night before. Nilwethion lost his grip and we both fell like stones. I broke my arm and dislocated my shoulder, and he broke his wrist. Somehow, we walked away from the healers within two days."  
  
Aliela tried to suppress a laugh, but her eyes sparkled with mirth and she had to cover her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. Her shoulders, covered in the lavender coloured cloak, began to shake, and a muffled giggle escaped her lips.  
  
"I apologise," she said quickly, "I ought not laugh,"  
  
"I do not mind," replied Legolas, "We have laughed about it many times since then. We have done much worse than that."  
  
Aliela smiled softly, and her eyes twinkled she passed through a ray of light that had found its way down through the trees.  
  
"You sound very much like Elladan and Elrohir,"  
  
"Under better circumstances, I think we would have enjoyed playing tricks together on my brothers."  
  
"I thought you were very close to your brothers," queried Aliela. Legolas looked at her sadly and nodded. Although he was remembering the good times of his life, with every step his horse took he grew further away from them, and every memory included his mother and sister. Thinking about them was still very painful.  
  
"We are, but it does not show much of the time. Many people believe we hate each other, but really Nilwethion, Thellind and I just enjoy angering the others. I do not really understand how it works, it just does. You said that you have brothers that night at the feast - what are they like?"  
  
Legolas listened to Aliela as she told him everything he asked about in great detail. First she told him about her siblings, both of whom spent their time studying ancient texts in Elrond's library. She then told him about her parents, and then moved on to the beauty and lightness of Imladris. She described the house of Elrond itself, and the lands around it - the narrow path leading up to it, the waterfall, the airy woods and the statues.  
  
Although he listened to everything Aliela talked about, the young prince found much of what his companion was saying very confusing, and he could not imagine it. Having never left the shadowy forest of Mirkwood, so full of darkness and danger, Legolas did not really understand the idea of such a light and peaceful life that was being described to him. What he did notice was the way Aliela's eyes seemed to glaze over, as if she was no longer in Mirkwood, but seeing the places she spoke of.  
  
It came as a surprise to both of them when Elladan and Elrohir trotted up, one on either side, and interrupted the flow of Aliela's words.  
  
"We heard Aliela talking about our dear Imladris, so we came to listen," Elladan informed the pair.  
  
"She is good with words, you see, and we have not seen our home for what feels like years, so we wanted to hear about it instead," chimed in Elrohir. The elf maiden blushed a furious red colour.  
  
"Oh," Elladan said, in a much lower voice, looking around quickly to make sure nobody was eavesdropping, "And we though we ought to tell you - that guard keeps looking over at you. I think he suspects something."  
  
Legolas and Aliela looked around at the guard the twins had indicated too. He was indeed watching them, and after holding Legolas' glance for a moment, he looked away in to the darkness of the trees and frowned.  
  
"He was watching Nilwethion and I earlier," the prince muttered. He bit his lip, and the twins exchanged a worried look. Aliela, however, looked confused. She did not realise that the princes were attempting to stay hidden from their people, and had thought that the guards knew they were there. She looked from one face to the next, wishing she understood what was going on.  
  
"Shall we go and speak to him?" asked Elrohir, quietly. Legolas nodded.  
  
"If he has worked out who I am, tell him that I command him to keep his mouth shut. If he does not know.make something up. Say I am from Imladris."  
  
The twins nodded silently and fell back to where the guard was marching along. While Elladan and Elrohir conversed with the guard, Legolas faced strait ahead in to the gloom. Aliela, however, kept turning round to look at the twins and the guard. Legolas gave her a small nudge and shook his head at her.  
  
"What is going on?" she asked  
  
"Hush, keep it down. I cannot explain here - I will tell you everything later. For now, just stop looking at the guard."  
  
Although she was not satisfied, Aliela sighed and gave in. Instead, she stared strait ahead of her at the riders in front, as Legolas was. After a few minutes, the twins returned.  
  
"He did not recognise you, but he knows the stallion apparently. He said he works in the stables sometimes, helping his brother, and he was wondering why a strange elf from Imladris was riding the horse belonging to his prince. We could not think of a story, so we had to tell him the truth. He is now under strict orders to make sure that no harm comes to you while we remain in Mirkwood, and to keep his mouth firmly shut if he is truly loyal to you."  
  
Legolas looked around at the guard, who was now watching him. The guard was a little short for an elf, and he had long blonde hair framing his narrow face. He had watery blue eyes, a pointed nose and high cheekbones. The elf bowed slightly to Legolas.  
  
"Who is he?" asked Legolas, turning back to the twins.  
  
"Inithil son of Luinorn. Have you ever heard of him?"  
  
Legolas thought for a moment, and then shook his head.  
  
"Never. I know Luinorn though. He trains some of the novices. He trained me, as it happens. A fine teacher, but I got on the wrong end of his temper many times. I doubt he liked me too much."  
  
Elrohir and Elladan smirked. They had been trained by Glorfindel, and most days the elf could be heard lecturing them, so they understood exactly what Legolas was talking about.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The elves had been journeying through the gloom of Mirkwood for two days, and captain Silnan and the royal guards were preparing to turn around and go back to the caves that made up the palace where king Thranduil lived.  
  
Inithil had watched Legolas constantly through the journey, though the young guard had never attempted to speak to his prince, and nor did he realize that the other five princes were also there, as he had been focused completely on Legolas.  
  
As the Imladris elves disappeared along the path in to the darkness, captain Silnan beckoned to Inithil. Nervously, Inithil approached the captain.  
  
"Yes sir?"  
  
"You were watching one of the Imladris elves very closely. Why?"  
  
The guard froze, trying to come up with a plausible answer that would not make him a traitor to the prince.  
  
"I. . . I was admiring her beauty, sir."  
  
Silnan gave Inithil a look of disbelief.  
  
"Her? The elf you were watching was no lady, Inithil."  
  
"The elf in the lilac cloak, sir, riding the dappled grey horse?" Inithil stammered. He was not a natural liar, and he hated lying in any form. The elf hoped that this would work in his favor, as he had never lied before, and his commanding officers knew that. Silnan eyed him suspiciously.  
  
"Are you sure you were not watching the lord she was riding with? That is what I have heard."  
  
Inithil shook his head.  
  
"No sir, I was not watching him. Although he did have a very fine horse. Perhaps that is why somebody though I was watching the lord, sir?"  
  
The captain was not satisfied with the answer, but decided to let it lie until they were back in the halls of the king. Then, he would press Inithil for every single detail. He motioned to Inithil to go back to his place, and Inithil hurried off with a sigh of relief.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In the caves of the Mirkwood palace, Thranduil and Mithrandir were sitting in the royal study, debating the princes. Thranduil was standing looking at a portrait of his wife holding baby Astaler with a small Oroweth sitting on her knee, pride written all over his face. Oroweth looked very much like a girl as a child, and many said that he still did look very feminine. The simple fact of the matter was that the prince was almost an exact replica, and for that reason alone Thranduil had not been able to look at his son once during the funeral. Well. . . that and terror at what injuries he would see, still inflicting his son.  
  
"Where did I go wrong, Mithrandir?" he asked, "Until lord Elrond and his household came, I believed myself to be a good adar. The younger ones were always playing tricks, and I did have to give them many lectures and punishments, but I always loved them. They did know that, did they not?"  
  
The old, grey wizard rested his hand on the king's shoulder.  
  
"Of course they did, my friend."  
  
"So where did I go wrong?" moaned the king. He picked up a goblet of wine from his desk and raised it to his lips to drink, but changed his mind and put it back down.  
  
"Thellind never liked too much wine," he stated, "No, Thellind did not like much wine and Nuryävié stopped eating meat. The young ones would run around like wild animals, despite years of warrior training. Where oh where did I go wrong? Ought I have spent more time with them? I would have done if I could, but affairs of state always got in the way. They did understand, did they not?"  
  
"I am sure they did," said Mithrandir, soothingly. He smiled gently from under the wide brim of his grey hat. "They also had to obey the call of duty,"  
  
Thranduil nodded and pushed his crown of berries back on to his head as it threatened to slip off. He turned to look at another portrait, this one of very young Thellind, Nilwethion and Legolas, looking very bored. They were dressed in identical, mossy green tunics with silver circlets around their heads. The king recalled watching the portrait being painted, and having to bribe the young princes in to staying still with the promise of being taken out on a family picnic - just the family, no guards in sight.  
  
He then remembered the picnic, sitting with Imlammthien, joining his sons chasing after each other in a wild game with constantly changing rules. He remembered the happiness of that day when Imlammthien announced that she was pregnant again, and the joy on the faces of his sons.  
  
For a moment the king smiled at the happy memories, but then his face fell as he his current situation came flooding back. His darling Imlammthien was dead, lying in her tomb with her daughter and unborn child, and his sons hating him.  
  
"Mithrandir," he said suddenly, "Where are my sons?"  
  
Mithrandir sat down on one of the velvet covered seats and rested his arm on the table. He paused, and then decided that he may as well tell Thranduil It had been two days, after all, since the princes had left.  
  
"Your sons are. . ." he began, but he was interrupted by a knock on the door.  
  
"Enter!" called Thranduil. Culkemen, newly made a chapter, pushed open the door and looked nervously in.  
  
"I apologize for interrupting, my lords, but a messenger has arrived from Dale with news of orc sightings. He wishes to speak with you."  
  
"Show him in then," ordered the king, sitting in the large, imposing chair behind his desk. Mithrandir sighed. If only he had been given a few more seconds. . .  
  
Culkemen reappeared, this time with the messenger from Dale. He was dressed in black, with a muddy black cloak fastened with a silver broach. His face was dirty from the journey, and his messy black hair hung around his shoulders. He bowed to Thranduil  
  
"Thranduil, king of Mirkwood," he said, "I am Baran son of Beleg of Dale, and I come with evil tidings from my lord."  
  
The king nodded to the messenger to carry on, and noted the way the mortal's eyes flicked around the study, taking everything in. Mithrandir stood up and moved away from the desk slightly, letting Thranduil and Baran look at each other eye to eye.  
  
"Almost two hundred orcs have been spotted fleeing away from Mirkwood, and they have attacked some of our less defended farms. We heard news of your trouble with orcs, and my lord decided to inform you, incase they were indeed the same ones and you wanted a say in their destruction. . ." the man trailed off and shifted under the smoldering gaze of the elven king. By the door, captain Culkemen cringed as she realized how angry the king had suddenly become at the mention of the orcs. The king slammed his fist down hard on his table, making everything on it move.  
  
"Culkemen! You have twenty minutes to assemble fifty of our best warriors by the palace gates! If you are not there in twenty minutes, I will ride without you!"  
  
"Your majesty," stammered the unfortunate messenger from Dale, "There are two hundred of the orcs!"  
  
The enraged king turned on the mortal, his bottle green robes swishing impressively around him.  
  
"Do not tell me how to fight battles! I know my own troops! Go back to Dale and inform your lord that the king of Mirkwood claims the orcs as his, and will kill every last one of them!"  
  
Terrified, Baran bowed quickly to the king and made for the door, but the king stopped him, this time a little more kindly.  
  
"Baran!" The mortal turned around, and king Thranduil threw a fairly small but heavy bag at him. "For the farmsteads."  
  
Looking inside the bag, Baran gasped. There were more gold coins than he had ever seen in his life, and was ever likely to see again. He muttered his thanks and fled the study. Culkemen followed, running to find the fifty warriors within the time limit. Thranduil turned to Mithrandir.  
  
"If you will excuse me Mithrandir, I have orcs to kill," he said, and stormed out.  
  
Mithrandir sat back down in his chair, and cradled his head in his hands. Why did everything have to go wrong?  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Look people! A decent sized, on time chapter! A few new OC's in this chapter, but they all play a part in the plot. Just four more reviews until that big 300!  
  
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~ I have one or two of them as well. I think of them as first thoughts, second thoughts and third thoughts. They used to have names, but everyone kept blaming everything on each other, so I ended up getting very confused.  
  
MORBID WIND ~ Aliela? *grins* *points to chapter* nothing happened to her, she just didn't play a part in that bit of the fic, see?  
  
MAVERICK GIRL ~ you are assuming that they get to Imladris in the first place. The whole plan was that Thranduil reaches the princes before they even left Mirkwood, remember?  
  
MOONMIST ~ better get that essay done! Not good to leave essays too late. Don't worry, I'll let the whole world know if I ever get anything published!  
  
PIRATE-CHICHA ~ if it's sweet you're wanting, the only thing that I've written that's completely sweet is My Little Sister.  
  
ORODRUIN ~ look! I made it! I actually started writing this chapter last Sunday, but ff.net was playing silly beggars, and I didn't have the patience with it to wait until it started acting nicely again.  
  
COOLIO02 ~ thanks for reading My Little Sister as well! 


	28. The Power Of Revenge

CHAPTER 28 - The Power Of Revenge  
  
The black cloak of night was wrapped around the lands east of Mirkwood, and stars twinkled down like diamonds. The silver moon shone down on Dale in a crescent shape, like a sliver of the sun. The sky, as a whole, was deceptively peaceful. Perhaps it would have been more adequate for it to be filled with heavy, angry clouds, rolls of thunder and flashes of white lightning, gone almost as soon as they struck the ground. Perhaps it would have been more appropriate if the sky had thrown rain or hail at the ground and soaked the earth, making it a sea of mud.  
  
The stillness of the sky was almost mocking the terror going on, down on the lands of Rhovänion. A small farming settlement about a days ride away from Dale was under attack from a band of two hundred orcs. Frenzied feet pounded the ground as their owners ran from the attacking orcs, and voices screamed in agony and pain as they were hewn down by the laughing attackers. One by one the wooden huts of the settlement went up in smoke and flames, lighting up the night and smothering the sky with thick smoke.  
  
A young mother slipped and fell, a small child in her arms. She scrambled to get up, but was knocked back down to the floor again as her neighbours and friends rushed past in their panic to escape. She screamed with frustration, sure that her baby was going to be murdered like her eldest son had been moments before. A snarl above her indicated that an orc was standing over her. A horse galloped past her, having escaped its owner and trying to escape the confusion.  
  
She flung herself over on to her back and screamed again as she looked in to the yellow, evil eyes of her advisory. The orc raised a blade, filthy with blood of people she knew, and snarled again. A small sob escaped her mouth as the mother pressed her howling child to what she expected would be the last embrace, as she waited for the killing blow to fall.  
  
It never came.  
  
From the west, a loud and clear horn blew, piercing the sound of the mêlée. The sharp point of an arrow suddenly protruded from the chest of the orc standing above the helpless woman, and a look of confusion crossed its face at the sight of its own blood, before the creature keeled over forwards on top of the mother, almost smothering her and her child. It was dead.  
  
King Thranduil of Mirkwood blew the horn again, and charged towards the village on his proud, white stallion, yelling a war cry. His golden hair flew out behind him, rippling in the wind created by the speed of the horse, held down only by a circlet of silver leaves. His polished armour glinted, reflecting the tortured land as he raced past it. His fair, eternally beautiful features glowed with power. The sword he held raised above him was long and sharp, dangerously beautiful, and his silver shield mirrored the moon, hanging proud in the field of stars around it.  
  
Only twenty-five of his warriors had managed to prepare for the attack in time, but in his blood wrath, numbers were not important to the king. All he could see was the image of his sons returning home changed, terrified of everyone, and his beloved dead wife and daughters.  
  
Tonight, revenge would belong to the elves of Mirkwood.  
  
Even though there were only twenty-six elves against two hundred orcs, the rage and lust for revenge that filled them was enough to fill the orcs with terror. It was now the turn of the orcs to howl with despair as they were hewn down by angry blades and arrows. The initial surprise of the elven attack, however, wore off the orcs quickly, and the creatures of the darkness began to realise that there were very few warriors facing them.  
  
"Attack 'em!" snarled one of the orcs, "There are more of us! We can take 'em!"  
  
The dull realisation hit the orcs at last, and they turned around from their retreat. The creatures, leaderless now, their new captain having had his head hewn off by Thranduil, snarled and growled. Many of them had dropped their weapons when they had heard the horn of Mirkwood blowing, but now they had taken fresh weapons from the hands of their dead comrades.  
  
"Kill 'em all!"  
  
The orcs gave the attacking elves, who were thundering down the mud track on their horses, a volley of spears. Most of the shots went wild, but three of the horses were hit and let out whinnies of pain and reared, throwing their riders off balance and to the floor. The elves quickly got up and began fighting for their lives as orcs sprang up from among the dead, where they had lain in wait.  
  
Charging down on the orcs, the elves trampled many of their adversaries beneath the hooves of their horses, and cut down even more with their sharp swords. Starlight reflected on their blades as they came swishing down to cut through the squealing creatures before them.  
  
At the head of his small band of warriors, Thranduil had completely lost all sense himself to the power of his blood wrath. All he could see were sneering orcs, laughing at the misfortune of his family, covered by a deep red mist. The screams of pain from the orcs meant nothing to him, as he cut his way through them, mowing them down. A pile of dead enemies began to mound up around his feet, and the elves found themselves having to stand on dead and dying bodies, covered in blood. The dying orcs howled out for mercy as they lay there, deadly wounded, writhing on the ground.  
  
The mortal villagers ran here and there, attempting to avoid the blood wrath of the elves in case they were killed themselves, and trying their hardest not to be skewered on the filthy blades of the orcs as the creatures tried to kill anybody who got in their way in their haste to escape.  
  
Caught in the middle of the battle, a small boy, clutching the hand of his even smaller sister, stood still and began to cry. He pulled the young girl close to him as an elven horse jumped over the pair of them and clattered down on the orc running past them, killing it.  
  
Then, there was nothing.  
  
The elves looked around to kill the next orc, but there were no orcs to face them. One by one, the villagers realised that they were no longer in any danger. They only orcs left alive lay on the grounds, groaning in pain and clutching at wounds.  
  
Thranduil, free of his blood wrath at last, strode over to Culkemen, where she stood shaking. They were both dirty from the thick smoke billowing around them from the burning houses, whose flames still licked at the sky. Blood was speared and splattered across their faces and armour. Thranduil brushed a strand of wild hair behind an ear, spreading the blood further across his face.  
  
Beside them, and orc writhed on the ground, clutching at a wound in its stomach. Without even looking at the miserable creature, king Thranduil skewered its throat with his sword. The orc gave a last choke, gurgled, and then died.  
  
"Battle report, Culkemen. Have we lost any of ours?"  
  
"No sir," she replied, "Though seven are badly wounded, I think."  
  
"Any orcs left?" he growled, looking around at the ruins of the village. Bodies of the mortals and the orcs lay stretched or curled in obscure positions, half submerged in pools of blood and covered by other bodies.  
  
"None sir," Culkemen answered. Her voice shook slightly, and she tried not to wretch as she became aware of the stench.  
  
"Good. Send a messenger to Dale and tell them to get healers here. Tell them that it is not a request. We will stay here until the warriors are all fit to travel and the villagers no longer need help. Understood?"  
  
The captain nodded, not daring to open her mouth again, and hurried off to find a messenger. Sighing, Thranduil looked westward to Mirkwood, and thought of his beloved sons. Now, perhaps, they would believe that he truly did love them.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The dull grey light filtering through the dark canopy of the trees indicated to the elves of Imladris that it was now dawn of the fifth day since the Royal Guards had left them. Elrond, riding at the head of the party, was becoming increasingly worried that the king of the dark realm had not yet made an appearance, making his sons believe that he loved them as much as any good father loved their sons. His wife had also become quite nervous. His sons, however, seemed to be only confused and a quite unhappy at the thought of having to say goodbye to princes when Thranduil turned up.  
  
As they rode on through the forest, and the hours drew on, the unrest Elrond and Celebrian were feeling had almost become panic. It did not escape the notice of the princes, who pressed the twins for answers.  
  
"Elladan," asked Legolas, in a low voice, "What are your naneth and adar so upset about?"  
  
Shrugging, the young elf of Imladris desperately tried to think of an excuse. Being unable to come up with anything believable other than the truth, he said, "Shall I go and ask them?"  
  
The youngest prince of Mirkwood shook his head.  
  
"I do not want to intrude upon something that is not my business."  
  
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged looks of relief that they had not been pressed for answers. Although they could easily come up with an alibi or tell little white lies to their parents, the twins did not think that they would be able to lie to the princes. They had been fed so many lies recently it had been, and still was, almost impossible for them to tell the truth from a lie. Adding more lies to the list would only make them more confused, and by becoming more confused, the princes would only become more withdrawn and depressed.  
  
More hours passed uneventfully, until the dull grey light left the forest, and the elves were swamped in the pitch black anti-light of Mirkwood night.  
  
"Shall we carry on, or shall we stop for the night?" asked Lady Celebrian, and then added in a whisper, "If we stop, King Thranduil is more likely to catch up with us."  
  
Thinking for a moment, Elrond shook his head, although Celebrian only just saw it in the flickering light of the burning torches.  
  
"We must press on, I think. The forest is stifling. King Thranduil will catch up with us whether we stop or not, I hope."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The Royal Guards who had been escorting the Imladris elves though Mirkwood had arrived back at the halls of the king, and had settled back in to the normal routine of life. They had been home for two days, when Silnan called Inithil to him. The young guard stood nervously before his captain, biting his lip and shifting from one foot to the other.  
  
"You have never lied to me, have you Inithil?" He asked, in quite a friendly tone. Inithil shook his head.  
  
"No sir, you know what I think about lying sir."  
  
"Not one, little, white lie?"  
  
That was when Inithil realized Silnan knew about the lie on the path. He bit his tongue.  
  
"Well, Inithil?"  
  
The guard looked up in to the eyes of his superior, and knew he was cornered. Looking around desperately for some way to escape, his eyes rested on the dark door to the office they were standing in. Silnan noticed, and moved to stand in the way of Inithil's line of sight with the door. Inithil gulped.  
  
"I don't like lying, captain Silnan sir," he muttered, looking at his feet.  
  
"But you have lied to me, Inithil." It was a statement, not a question. Inithil nodded miserably.  
  
"Yes sir, I apologize sir."  
  
"Why did you lie to me?"  
  
Inithil went white. He was torn between two loyalties - that of the princes, and keeping their secret, or telling his captain every scrap of detail he knew. He whimpered.  
  
"They. . .they said if I tell you, I would be betraying them, sir," he squeaked. His voice was barely audible, and Silnan found himself having to lean closer to the young guard to hear what was being said. This, unfortunately, made Inithil feel as though he was under even more pressure.  
  
"Who did?"  
  
"They said not to tell you, sir."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because it would make me a traitor, sir."  
  
"A traitor to whom?"  
  
"A traitor to. . ." Inithil bit his lip, and looked down at his feet. He had almost given away the secret that had forced him to lie in the first place, but he refused to let down his defences so easily. After all, he had been given orders from the prince, and the princes ranked higher than a captain, even if it was captain Silnan.  
  
The captain in question banged his fist on his desk with frustration, letting anger get the better of him.  
  
"Inithil, if the king was here I would drag you strait along to him and then you would have to answer to the king! As it happens, I have been informed that the king is not in Mirkwood right now, and therefore I am the highest ranking warrior in Mirkwood. Yes, there are the princes, but they refuse to. . ." he stopped abruptly, and light dawned on his fair features.  
  
"Is this to do with the princes, Inithil?"  
  
Trembling, and feeling like a traitor, Inithil nodded slowly.  
  
"They said if I told you I would be a traitor. Does that make me a traitor, sir?"  
  
Silnan gave the terrified guard a funny look.  
  
"The princes said that?"  
  
"No sir, the sons of Elrond."  
  
A flash of anger replaced the look of triumph that had been covering the features of the elven captain.  
  
"I knew we should never have trusted them!" he shouted, and stormed out of the study towards the stables, to go and search for his king.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It had been four days since the last stand of the orcs, and Thranduil smiled grimly. The healers had arrived from Dale, and most of his warriors had recovered. There were only three warriors unfit to travel now, and soon they would be on their way back to Mirkwood.  
  
The bodies of the murdered villagers had been laid to rest just outside the village, and a very tearful ceremony had been held. The king would not have gone, feeling that it was not his place, but the men and women of the burnt village had insisted, saying that if he had not appeared with his warriors like something out of the old tales, then the orcs would have killed them all.  
  
The bodies of the orcs had not been treated with anywhere near the same amount of respect, being piled up in to a mound of stinking, ugly corpses and burnt in a huge bonfire. Thick, black smoke had filled the sky for the second time in the week, but this time it was welcomed. They had all watched the spectacle with grim triumph.  
  
Now the clearing of the bodies was over, and the mortals both from Dale and from the farming village had thanked the elves over and over again for coming to the rescue. The elves had been provided with everything they needed, and more, not least of all healing for the wounded and food for their empty stomachs.  
  
The king of Dale walked up to king Thranduil and bowed.  
  
"I thank you, king Thranduil, for all that you have done for my people."  
  
Thranduil bowed back to his ally.  
  
"I am glad to be of service, though in truth the main reason I came to kill the orcs was quite selfish."  
  
"We were very sorry when we heard your tragic news."  
  
The two men stood silently for a while, looking over the work that was being done to rebuild the village. Elves and men were working together to rebuild the destroyed houses, and the result was pleasing for both sides.  
  
"My elves and I will not leave until the village is rebuilt, king Dorlas," vowed Thranduil suddenly. His companion blinked with astonishment.  
  
"That is very gracious of you, but I find myself wondering why."  
  
"I feel partly at fault," replied Thranduil sadly, "For not killing them all when I had the chance. Look at what has happened because I let them go."  
  
To that, the king of Dale could find no reply. He looked up at the dirt track leading to the settlement, and saw an elven rider galloping down it as fast as the horse could go. The pair of kings watched as the rider approached - one tall, slim and golden, the other a little dumpy with very dark features. The rider drew up to them and dismounted, bowing to them. It was Silnan.  
  
"King Thranduil," he gasped, out of breath, "Your sons. . ."  
  
King Dorlas of Dale heard the sharp intake of breath.  
  
"What has happened?" hissed the king of Mirkwood.  
  
"They have gone, my lord. To Imladris."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Look! I have over 300 reviews! Yay! Thank you all so much for reviewing!  
  
REVIEW REPLY THINGY  
  
DRAGONFLY ~ my dear, everything that can go wrong *always* goes wrong. Law of life. Don't worry, he came out of it fine.  
  
LARVLE ~ don't worry, it won't end for a good while yet. You're on holiday? No fair!  
  
ELIZABETHBLACK4 ~ so basically poor everyone involved, right? Why poor Mithrandir though? Ooh, and sorry to nit pick, but you spelt Astaler's name wrong. . .  
  
TAMARA ~ thanks!  
  
MORBID MIND ~ thank you!  
  
IMBEFANIEL ~ oh the poor thing! No need to be depressed if she's okay now though.  
  
PIRATE-CHICHA ~ don't worry dear, the princes don't get caught again this fic. The nasty orcs have all been killed now, anyway. Angst is good. I like angst.  
  
EBONY FALCON ~ was there enough action this time?  
  
ORODRUIN ~ falling apart, or being ripped brutally apart and being crushed beneath the feet of orcs? Nah, Thranduil knows the strength of his own people better than any others do. . . except maybe Silnan. Mithrandir's threatening look wouldn't work on Thranduil. Partly because Thranduil is a king, and partly because he has an equally scary look.  
  
LOTRSEER3350 ~ I see somebody hasn't read the appendixes in the back of Lotr. You see, Celebrian and Aragorn were never around at the same time. Celebrian sailed west long before Aragorn was even born. Again, you have your timelines mixed up. Thranduil *can't* die in battle, because he is in The Hobbit, and that hasn't taken place yet. How do we know? Because Celebrian is still here.  
  
COOLIO02 ~ heh. Never get in the way of a Thranduil rampage. The orcs learnt the hard way. 


	29. West Of Mirkwood

CHAPTER 29 - West Of Mirkwood  
  
As the pause dragged out, Dorlas felt as though he would burst from the tension that was pressing down, making the air around them dark and heavy. He felt as though he would go mad and run along the dirt track back to Dale to escape the madness. Instead, he found that he could not move, as though he was a statue made of marble, like the ones in Dale.  
  
At last, breaking the frozen moment, king Thranduil fell to his knees with a heartbroken cry. It was a long, painful sound that sent shivers down the spine of all who heard it. The elven king brought his pale, shaking hands up to his face and lowered his head as he let out a choke.  
  
King Dorlas looked up at Silnan, who returned the look with distressed eyes.  
  
"My sons," moaned Thranduil, "Oh my sons!"  
  
With his face still buried in his hands, the elf shook his head slowly.  
  
Silnan took a tentative step forward and put a hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort Thranduil. At that moment, Culkemen jogged up, her hair wild and dark rims under her eyes due to the lack of sleep from staying up to help the healers. Thranduil shrugged Silnan away, and took his hands away from his face. Slowly, he picked up a handful of dry dirt, and he let it trickle slowly through his fingers. When no more of the greyish brown dirt fell, he tipped what was left of it on his palm, still slow, back on to the ground. Clenching his fist tightly, he brought his first down hard on to the earth to vent frustration. Culkemen crept past Silnan and Dorlas, her feet bare, and crouched down, slightly behind and to the right of the king.  
  
"My lord?" she ventured. The king did not reply. She tried again.  
  
"My lord, will you ride after them? Will you bring them back?"  
  
This time, king Thranduil stood up. He stared out in to the distance, over the rolling green hills of Rhovänion. Culkemen stayed crouched on the ground, as she and Silnan held their breaths. Deciding it was not his place to interfere, king Dorlas began to back away, to leave the elves alone.  
  
"No." He said. His voice no longer shook, but it was still full of pain. Silnan and Culkemen looked at each other, shocked.  
  
"But my lord. . ." tried Silnan. Thranduil turned around and held up a hand. Silnan shut his mouth, seeing the look on his kings face.  
  
"I said no, Silnan. Let them go." He looked westwards at the vast forest he ruled, lying like a rug over the earth. "Let them go."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Two months had passed as the elves of Imladris and the six princes traveled through the dark, dingy depths of Mirkwood. At last, rays of light had begun to pierce the canopy of the trees, spilling light on to the path here and there. The elves had reached the western eaves of the forest, and still there was no sign of the king. Elrond and Celebrian had long ago given up hope that he would arrive.  
  
Ahead of them, a glimmer of light signaled the end of the forest, where two great trees stood, one on either side of the path, like silent sentinels. As the party got closer and closer to the gateway, the light became brighter and brighter.  
  
At last, they reached it. The two, giant trees made an arch, leading out of the forest and on to the sunny grasslands. They were covered with brown leaves, signaling that it was Autumn. On the path, more leaves had fallen, crunching beneath the hooves of the elvish horses. Ivy was curled around the bottom of the trees, threatening to reach its way up around the gateway and, given enough time, choke the two proud trees.  
  
Falling in to single file, the elves of Imladris passed through the gateway, and as the warm light of day fell on their faces they began to laugh and sing. At last, the princes and the twins, who had been riding together at the back of the group, reached the trees. The twins, light hearted and glad that they would be leaving the dark confines of the shadowy forest, galloped out in to the fields. The princes, however, halted.  
  
They dismounted and looked around their forest home for what they suspected would be the last time. At last, watched by the elves of Imladris, Oroweth led his horse through the two trees. A whistle of wind blew suddenly, whipping up the leaves on the path. The branches on the trees shook.  
  
Astaler and Nuryävié followed him, holding each others hand tightly for comfort, like little elflings. The bright sunlight caught their faces and lit up their features as it had done many times when they had climbed to the tops of the trees to feel the wind.  
  
After watching his elder brothers leave the forest behind, Nilwethion sprang forwards in to the open air with a laugh of delight. He ran to the twins, suddenly full of energy, and then turned to watch Legolas and Thellind find their way to the sunlight.  
  
Confident after seeing the sudden happiness, Legolas took a step forward, leading his horse gently. He looked around at the dark forest one more time. His eyes fell upon Thellind, who was eyeing the grassy plains on the other side of the trees as if they were a terrible, scary enemy.  
  
"Thellind," said Legolas, quietly. The silent prince looked as his brother almost pleadingly, as if he wanted to stay in Mirkwood more than anything. Legolas held out his hand, and smiled encouragingly.  
  
"Come on!" called Nilwethion, "Everyone is waiting!"  
  
Reluctantly, Thellind let Legolas lead him out from under the eaves of Mirkwood, and shut his eyes. The trees shook their leaves again, as if lamenting the loss of their royal family. Leagues and leagues away, the elves of the woodland realm felt a chilled tremor sweep through the forest from the west.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The elves traveled quickly along the open road, the wild flowers and meadows growing abundantly on both sides of them. One or other of the Imladris elves would always be singing, whether during the days or under the bright stars, sitting by a fire.  
  
When they were two nights away from Mirkwood, and the forest was no more than a dark line on the horizon, the sound of rushing water reached the ears of the elves. Riding further, the party reached a rushing river that gurgled and splashed under the starlit skies.  
  
"This is the river Anduin," Elladan said, as he watched the look of delight on the faces of the princes.  
  
"We have seen it many times on maps," confirmed Legolas, "In our warrior training, we were made to study maps of every land east of the Misty Mountains and south of the Grey Mountains all the way to Rhûn."  
  
"What about the lands east of the mountains? Or north?" queried Elrohir. The prince shrugged.  
  
"We have seen one or two maps of Imladris," Nilwethion remembered suddenly, "Adar wanted us to know where you were from, seeing as you were our guests."  
  
As the elves continued their conversation, they turned southwards, following the wide river southwards.  
  
"So. . . what do you know of Doriath?" asked Elladan, remembering his childhood lessons given by various members of the household, "Surely you have seen maps of Doriath! Or of Eregion!"  
  
"Eregion? Is that not where the rings of power were made?" asked Nilwethion, riding up next to his younger brother. Elrohir nodded. His eyes flicked towards lord Elrond, who was watching them, and decided to change the subject quickly.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Time passed quickly as they followed the river southwards, and at last they came to the large, stone bridge that crossed the Anduin.  
  
When still more days had passed, the elves of Imladris reached the Misty Mountains. As they rode upwards, over the grey slopes, the wind became bitter and cold. Huge storm clouds were always gathered in the skies over the Misty Mountains, rolling around and building up, threatening travelers with blizzards of snow and storms that would make the paths wet and dangerous to use.  
  
Luckily, the bad weather stayed as a threat, and the three day march over the mountain pass remained uneventful but cold. The snow was the cause of fun between the more light-hearted elves, and snow fights ensued, proving to be fun and entertaining.  
  
At last the party came down on the other side of the mountain, and entered Eriador - the lands between the mountains and the sea. They left the snowy mountains behind, and found entertainment in singing songs, or, in the case of the twins, trying to catch the falling leaves.  
  
"They always try to catch the leaves," laughed Aliela on the fourth day in Eriador, "Though I have never heard of them catching one."  
  
"'Tis just bad luck!" protested Elladan, as he and Elrohir rode up, "I always almost catch one, but then the wind catches them, and they drift away. We will catch one eventually."  
  
Legolas shook his head at the twins, as Elrohir reached up to try and catch a red leaf that was falling from the tree at the side of the path. He missed it.  
  
"Why do you try to catch them?"  
  
"Arwen challenged us to catch one when we were pestering her a couple of years ago," explained Elrohir, as he tried to catch the same leaf as Elladan. As always, they both missed it.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Look! It's amazing! I, Emerald Queen, have written a *happy chapter*! Well, happy for the princes. Not so happy for poor old Thranduil. All the places mentioned are places Tolkien himself created, not places I came up with. Some of them, like Doriath, are in the Silmaillion though, not Lord of the Rings. Yes, the river Anduin in this is the same one that flows through Gondor and Lothlorien. For those of you who haven't seen the maps, it's a very, very long river.  
  
I'm very sorry, but next week there won't be a chapter because I'm going on a French exchange. Many apologies. There will be one the week after though.  
  
REVIEW THINGY  
  
DRAGONFLY ~ was his reaction worth waiting for then?  
  
GILRAEN3 ~ as you can see, Thranduil let them go to Imladris. Silly fool. He's really going to regret doing that soon.  
  
COOLIO02 ~ thanks!  
  
MOONMIST ~ *eats cookie* *licks lips* Mm, very nice cookie! Just an hour? This story takes place over a really long time period! I don't think the princes would really appreciate having the body of a Barbie doll somehow. I think they'd prefer the male action figures somehow.  
  
SPARROW GREENLEAF ~ they weren't killing the orcs because they're stupid and smelly, they were killing the orcs in an act of revenge, to satisfy their bloodlust, and because if they didn't kill the orcs, the orcs would have killed all the people in the village.  
  
CADGEDPHOENIX ~ the easiest way of checking to see if I got your reviews or not is to check whether I've answered them or not in previous chapters. I don't think anyone liked me killing Calensil. Heck, even *I* didn't like me killing Calensil.  
  
SARA ~ *hides nervously* um, sorry, I think I just did exactly what you hoped I wouldn't do, didn't I? Who's your sister? He doesn't feel betrayed so much as he just thinks that if he drags them back to Mirkwood they'll hate him even more. He doesn't want that, so he let them go.  
  
LITTLE WITCH ~ don't worry too much about the princes for now, they'll be fine. It's their adar who needs them.  
  
EBONY FALCON ~ sorry, it was quite an action less story again, wasn't it? There *will* be more action, trust me. If not much in this fic, then in the next one, which I already have planned.  
  
MORBID MIND ~ happy with what happened?  
  
LOTRSEER3350 ~ that's fair enough. I would suggest reading the appendix anyway though, because it's really fascinating! Plus you'll find it easier to follow my fics. . .  
  
ORODRUIN ~ Thranduil has the most scary "angry elf lord" face east of the Misty Mountains! He doesn't half know it. Poor Inithil. Don't you just hate being questioned by people with more authority than you? I know it isn't really clear here, but Thranduil did go back to Mirkwood when he found out about his son.  
  
TAMARA ~ Thanks a lot! 


	30. Fair and Free

CHAPTER 30 - Fair And Free  
  
As the morning sun climbed, turning the sky rose-pink and forget-me-not blue, the travelling elves had their first view of Imladris, the end of their journey. Rays of the golden sun tickled the Autumn leaves on the surrounding trees, a waterfall splashed down rocky paths and the roves reflected the light like mirrors. A narrow bridge crossed over the speeding river between the elves and their home, and it was over this that they crossed.  
  
"Welcome, princes of Mirkwood, to Imladris," announced Elrohir, "We told you it was beautiful."  
  
Legolas looked around in awe at his new surroundings. He opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it, and shook his head. The twins looked at each other, and grinned widely, their eyes shinning. After a few moments, Legolas spoke.  
  
"It is so. . . so light! So open!"  
  
From the distance they heard a song begin, accompanied by a harp.  
  
"That will be Lindir," said Elladan, turning to look in the direction the beautiful sound was coming from, "The only thing he ever thinks about is music, music, music. Silly creature. He always creates new names for everyone, and everything, so it is almost impossible to understand who or what he is talking about!"  
  
"What is wrong with music?" asked Legolas. He was only half listening to the twins, as they giggled. Lady Celebrian rode up beside her sons and the young prince.  
  
"Nothing is wrong with music, or Lindir, but Elladan and Elrohir tease him dreadfully."  
  
The twins had the grace to look ashamed.  
  
"That is not fair naneth. . ."  
  
"He does not mind us. Really, he does not. . ."  
  
Celebrian raised an eyebrow at her sons, as Legolas continued to gaze around, taking in the new sights and the strange, but welcome, smells.  
  
"Of course. I am sure they were not real tears when you ruined his harp. . ."  
  
"We said sorry!"  
  
". . .or stole his flute. . ."  
  
"We gave it back!"  
  
"Only when your adar threatened to separate you until you did."  
  
The argument continued between mother and sons for sometime, until a high pitched squealing sound was heard. The elves all turned to see the cause of the sound - a tall, dark haired elf maiden running as fast as she could down the path towards them with her arms outstretched. She flew headlong in to Elrond, who had dismounted after crossing the bridge, and was walking along side a golden haired elf whom Legolas remembered as being Glorfindel. The power of the impact knocked the elf lord to the leaf covered floor, winding him.  
  
"Ada!" she gasped, "Oh ada you are back! I missed you so much! When the messengers got to Lothlorien, grandmother and grandfather let me come home to meet you strait away!"  
  
Ignoring the muffled sniggers of Elladan, Elrohir, and a few other elves, Elrond peeled the arms of his daughter Arwen off his waist and, attempting to regain his dignity, stood up. He embraced her, trying to make sense of the fast flow of her words, before shunting her in the direction of her naneth. Before she reached lady Celebrian, however, she was pounced on by her brothers. Expecting a trick, she tried to pull away and run for cover, but she was caught fast in their arms.  
  
As Legolas watched Arwen greeting her family, an image of his past flashed in front of his eyes. Instead of Elladan and Elrohir hugging Arwen, he could see Thellind and Nilwethion greeting an over excited Calensil, after returning from a training mission with the warriors. He bit his lip, blinked back a tear, and looked away. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but shrugged it off. Elrond and Celebrian exchanged sad glances. The wound the princes had received from loosing Calensil was as raw as it had been the day she was murdered.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Legolas looked around the pale, open room, taking everything in. It was not a large room, nor was it as showy as the chambers had been back in Mirkwood, but everything seemed to be perfect. There was no door and no windows, but instead there was an arch connecting the room to the corridor, three small, open balconies that looked westwards over a wood and two more small balconies that faced north.  
  
Leaves had scattered in, and lay on the floor where the wind had dropped them. A double bed stood with its headboard against the wall, in between the north facing balconies. It was covered with silky, white sheets, with a couple of plumped up, white pillows. By one of the west facing balconies stood a writing desk with neat, ordered paper. A wardrobe stood not far away from it, and at the bottom of the bed was a large chest. On the floor was a creamy white rug.  
  
"Just leave your things here for now, you can put them all away later," said Elladan, "Now though, I will let you settle in, and then take you on a tour. I will be back in a few minutes."  
  
The dark haired elf disappeared through the arch in to the corridor, and hurried away to his own chambers. Legolas threw his few belongings on the bed. He half regretted not taking more, but the twins had shaken their heads at him, told him that hardly anything would be needed, and passed each other a meaningful look that they thought he had not noticed.  
  
He picked up the brush that was lying on the table, and dragged it through his golden hair until he had defeated all the knots, and tamed the locks in to looking well behaved. Searching through his clothes until he found a dark green tunic, he opened the door to the wardrobe to throw the rest of his outfits in. . .and gasped. The wardrobe was already full with clothes - tunics, robes, leggings and cloaks were hung up, and on the floor of the wardrobe were a few pairs of boots and shoes.  
  
Carefully, he closed the door again and threw what he wasn't wearing back on to the double bed.  
  
When Elladan re-appeared a few minutes later, the elf was wearing deep blue robes with silver lining and a silver circlet.  
  
"Ready?" he asked. Legolas nodded, and followed him out of the room in to the airy corridor.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In the great, dark forest of Mirkwood, captain Silnan of the royal guard was fuming. He was striding around his office, muttering dark threats about the elves of Imladris to Culkemen who wisely stayed quiet, and Mithrandir, who sat smoking his pipe and glowering from under the rim of his hat.  
  
"They have kidnapped our princes!" he seethed, "Kidnap! They would never leave their home by choice! Those half blood elves have poisoned their minds with lies about us! Making our princes believe that Thranduil hates them! Look at what has happened to Thranduil because of those forsaken tale- spinners! He lies in bed becoming weaker and weaker, unable to rule because all he can think about is his sons, who have been taken away from him!"  
  
The voice of the captain rose like a storm, getting angrier and angrier with every step and every word. He thumped his fist down hard on the table.  
  
"I swear that if those princes have come to any harm - ANY harm - there will be another kin slaying!" Silnan yelled, shaking with fury. Culkemen looked pleadingly at Mithrandir, but the old wizard did nothing yet.  
  
"We should never have trusted them! Thranduil and Imlammthien, may she find rest in the halls of Mandos, ought to have known never to let Noldor blood in to the kingdom! Before they came, everything was running smoothly! We had no need of extra allies! As soon as they appeared though, just look what happened! Look! A day or two in to the visit, the princes were captured by orcs, then came back not knowing what was true and what was not! If it were not for those filthy, scheming, vile, half-blooded, lowlife . . ."  
  
"Silnan."  
  
Mithrandir took the pipe out of his mouth and stared at the enraged captain. Silnan looked at him, quivering with anger at the elves of Imladris.  
  
"Silnan, that is enough." The voice of the old, grey wizard was stern, as if talking to a naughty elfling that had been stealing jam. He rubbed his tired eyes, and then said, in a much calmer voice; "It was all set up."  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"The princes leaving Mirkwood. It was a set up."  
  
The two captains stared at Mithrandir with disbelief written across their faces. Silnans jaw dropped open.  
  
"So. . . the princes are still here? They are still in Mirkwood?" asked Culkemen after a long, dragged out silence. She moved over to stand next to Silnan. Mithrandir shook his head.  
  
"Sadly, no. They are not. They are supposed to be, but they are not. Thranduil was supposed to ride out after them, catch up with them, and thus prove to them that he really does love them. Instead, as I was about to tell them where his sons were, he heard news of the orcs and went to kill them. When you found out what happened to them, he chose to let them go instead of bringing them home. The plans were ruined."  
  
"Well if you had told us the plans. . ."  
  
"Do not shout at me, Silnan! I am only trying to help!" It was the turn of Mithrandir to get angry. For a few moments, they regarded each other coldly.  
  
"Very well," said Silnan, coolly, "Do not try to help us any more. We need no help."  
  
Mithrandir dropped his clay pipe in surprise, letting it slip from his fingers and fall to the floor, smashing in to little pieces. Sad smoke drifted up from the broken object. The wizard sniffed, and tipped his hat at Silnan.  
  
"Then I bid you farewell. I will find my way out."  
  
Culkemen gaped with shock as Mithrandir brushed past her, and slammed the door shut behind him as he left. She turned to Silnan, who stood glaring at the door, clenching his fists.  
  
"So. . ." she ventured, timidly, "What shall we do?"  
  
"We do what we should have done as soon as we knew where the princes were," he growled, "We go to that accursed refuge they call Imladris and we bring back our princes before the king follows his wife and daughters to the halls of Mandos because they broke his heart!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, Nilwethion and Thellind lay hidden, watching their prey. The prey itself was sitting alone, dabbling its feet in the river, a small pile of nuts and berries beside it, and a harp on its lap. The prey went by the name of Lindir.  
  
He was singing quite a happy song about Melestel. Who or what Melestel was, none of the hunting party were sure, but so far they had come to the decision that it was probably the sun.  
  
"On the count of three," whispered Elladan, "We catch him. One. Two. THREE!"  
  
On 'three', the five elves jumped out from their hiding places, grabbed hold of a very shocked Lindir, and threw a cloak over his head. The elf was pushed in to the river and dropped his harp with a splash, and gave a muffled yelp. Five pairs of hands quickly dragged him out of the river, back on to the bank. The harp stayed in the water.  
  
"Quick, tie his hands!" giggled Elrohir, "Oh, I missed being home!"  
  
Rope was brought forth from somewhere, and Lindir quickly found himself being tied to a tree, the cloak still fastened over his head with a broach.  
  
As quickly as they had appeared, the five attackers ran gleefully off in to the woods, back to Imladris. Lindir tried to get free of the bonds that kept him prisoner, but failed. The twins and the princes were very good at knots. He then tried yelling for a rescuer, but the cloak over his head muffled the sound. Eventually he gave up, deciding that he would have to wait for a rescuer to turn up. Glorfindel or Arwen, most likely.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Hours later, and Lindir had still not been rescued. The stars shone brightly above him, but, with the cloak covering his head, the poor elf could not see them. He was very cold, as his clothes were still damp from being pushed in to the river, and his hair and face were still sopping wet. The day had been a cold one, so there had been no heat to dry him out.  
  
At last, he heard the sound of light footsteps approaching.  
  
"Hello?" he tried, but his voice was muffled. Suddenly, he felt the broach that had been keeping the cloak in place over his head being unfastened. As the cloak was pulled off, it caught on a bit of his hair. He gave a yelp. His rescuer carefully loosed the caught hair, and uncovered Lindir's face, smiling sheepishly.  
  
Lindir shook the wet locks of hair out of his face, and then smiled thankfully at the elf looking at him.  
  
"Thank you," he breathed, "I was stuck with that cloak over my head for hours! It was the twins again. They always do something like this. There was someone else with them this time, but I could not see who it was. Could you untie me please?"  
  
The strange elf nodded, and cut the cords binding the minstrel to the tree with a dagger. As the ropes fell away, Lindir stumbled forwards to the river, and looked hopefully in to it's depths. There was no sign of his harp. His wonderful, sparkly new harp that played such good, clear music now belonged to the fishes. A small tear trickled down his pale cheek. The strange elf put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"That was my new harp!" he moaned, "Oh, my poor harp!"  
  
The elf put something down on the leafy floor next to Lindir. The elf looked at it and gasped.  
  
It was his harp.  
  
"How did you. . ." Lindir looked up, but the elf had vanished in to the trees. He picked up the harp, and hugged it.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Did you rescue him then?"  
  
The golden-brown haired elf nodded as he sat down next to his younger brother.  
  
"Did you give him the harp?"  
  
Another nod  
  
"Do you still think we ought to give him the flute?"  
  
Pause. Another nod.  
  
The silent elf clutched a teddy bear that looked as though it would fall apart any second, and looked eastward. His eyes misted up as he thought of home.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Lindir is owned by Tolkien. He was in the books, but not the film. He had a whole *two lines*. Any guesses at who his two rescuers are? I gave you enough hints, so it shouldn't be overly difficult. I think I made Arwen a bit hyped up and out of character, but she won't be staying like this. She was just happy to see her family again.  
  
REVIEW REPLY THINGY  
  
DRAGONFLY ~ yes, Thranduil is a very stubborn old elf. He'd probably admit it himself. If they knew about the plan, the princes would have been heartbroken.  
  
ELIZABETHBLACK4 ~ *blink* um. . .wow! *Now* I have 30 chapters. One is just an authors note. Why for Calensil's sake? She's dead.  
  
MORBID MIND ~ *points to chapter* note the entrance of Arwen ;) ;). France was fun, except for the fish paste. That was manky. . .  
  
ORODRUIN ~ I pity Thellind as well. I'm still trying to decide if he speaks again or not. It's the only part of the fic I'm stuck with.  
  
CHRYSTYNA ~ as I said to ELIZABETHBLACK4, *blink* um. . .wow! You really think I do them justice? *hug* That was such a massive compliment! You'd be amazed how much it means to me.  
  
GILRAEN3 ~ they don't hate Thranduil for not catching up with them, because they didn't know he was supposed to. They love him to pieces, but they left because they think that *he* hated *them*.  
  
MOONMIST ~ *gobbles cookie & chocolate milk* Mm, very tasty. You must have an awful lot of Barbie's! How did you do the orcs?  
  
EBONY FALCON ~ thanks  
  
LARVLE ~ *looks around nervously* the real Emerald Queen is currently frolicking with the elves somewhere in Valinor. Yes, this is really Princes of Mirkwood.  
  
CADGEDPHOENIX ~ I'm so cruel to poor old Thranduil. Making him all depressed and *that close* to dieing of a broken heart. Poor, dear king of Mirkwood. *Huggles Thrandy*  
  
COOLIO02 ~ I've written more! 


	31. Lingering Presence

CHAPTER 31 - Lingering Presence  
  
Sitting on the end of the double bed, Elladan and Elrohir looked at the six princes, all gathered in Legolas' room. They had not arranged to meet there, it had just . . . happened. First Legolas and Thellind had been debating Lindir, then Nilwethion and the twins had appeared, also debating Lindir, but laughing about him, not feeling remorse, and then the three older princes had appeared to see their brothers.  
  
"So," began Elladan, "Do you like our dear, sweet home of Imladris?"  
  
"It is very light and airy," replied Astaler, "I think it will take a while to get used to. I doubt I will be able to look at your sister for a long time."  
  
The twins frowned slightly. "She reminds you of Calensil?"  
  
The princes nodded, but none of them spoke. Legolas looked up at the archway leading in to the corridor, as if expecting to see his young sister staring at them. She was not there, however. Her body was buried in a tomb hundreds of miles away in Mirkwood, and her soul was resting in the halls of Mandos.  
  
"She is not usually so . . . energetic," said Elrohir, referring to Arwen "She spends much of her time talking quietly with the other maidens, or sewing, or singing with the minstrels - Lindir mainly, they get on very well."  
  
"Playing the trick on Lindir was fun," said Nilwethion, grinning at the twins. The prince of Mirkwood flopped on to the floor and leaned his back against Thellinds' legs. Thellind himself was sitting on the chair by the writing desk. He shifted, uneasily.  
  
"Thellind and I rescued him about an hour ago," Legolas said. The twins and Nilwethion looked at him, slightly accusing.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"We felt guilty. It was as though. . ." the prince waved his hands about, "It reminded us of the orcs."  
  
The twins paled visibly and the princes who had been kept as captives shuddered at the vile, unwanted memory that the words stirred up in their minds. The laughter of the orcs rang in their ears.  
  
"You. . .you really think we behaved. . .like orcs?" stuttered Elladan. He began to shake as Legolas nodded slowly. The prince took a dark flute from the folds of cloth in his belongings. "We were going to give him. . ."  
  
As he looked up, he realised he was talking to thin air. The twins had fled the room, terrified at the thought of acting like orcs.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Humming softly to himself, Lindir sat under a tree as he dried out beneath the starlight. He strummed the strings on his harp thoughtfully. They would definitely need to be changed. The water had ruined them so much that they would need a lot more than re-tuning. It did not matter though, Lindir reasoned, because he still had the body of the harp. He could pretend that the ambush had never happened.  
  
In the middle of humming his tune, Lindir was disturbed by two identical figures. He froze, expecting to be ambushed again, then quickly hid his harp in the long grass beside him and got ready to scramble up the tree.  
  
As it happened, there was no need. The twins were not interested in the harp, but instead they dropped down on their knees in front him, panting for breath.  
  
"Lindir we are sorry," gasped Elladan, "We never realized we being so hurtful!"  
  
"Please forgive us Lindir. You have to forgive us!" cried Elrohir.  
  
Lindir tried to lean away from them, pressing his shoulder blades in to the tree trunk. He suspected nothing good from the twins, having learnt harsh lessons in the past. He eyed the twins warily.  
  
"Did lord Elrond threaten to separate you again?" he asked slowly. Elladan blinked at Lindir, and then shook his head furiously.  
  
Elladan paled so much that the colour of his skin resembled the white cloak that Lindir had wrapped around himself.  
  
"We have already been separated," he whispered, remembering the torment he had suffered in the dark, "And adar had no part in this. Please, believe us! We truly are sorry!"  
  
At that moment the trees rustled, and the three young elves looked around. Lord Glorfindel and Erestor, one of the councilors of Elrond, were standing watching the scene. Elladan gasped, scrambled to his feet and then ran off in to the night.  
  
"We did not hurt him," babbled Elrohir, "I swear by the stars we did not hurt him!"  
  
Then Elrohir disappeared of after his twin. Glorfindel was about to chase after them but Erestor, a tall elf with long dark hair and dark eyes, stopped him. The old elves turned to Lindir, who still had his back pressed against the tree with shock radiating from him.  
  
"Were they picking on you again?" asked Glorfindel. Lindir shook his head, blonde tresses of hair falling over his shoulders.  
  
"Are you sure?" chimed Erestor. Again, the young elf shook his head. Erestor and Glorfindel looked at each other, worried for the singer.  
  
"Do you speak?" asked Glorfindel. This time, Lindir nodded. He stood up strait, away from the tree trunk, and then stared in to the darkness after the twins.  
  
"Lindir, what did they say to you?"  
  
Lindir took a moment to recollect what the twins had said, and then looked at Glorfindel. Erestor had stayed in Imladris instead of going to Mirkwood, so he knew very little of what had happened over the past couple of months.  
  
"Did something bad happen to the twins when you were in Mirkwood?" he asked. It was a moment before Glorfindel said anything.  
  
"Yes, it did."  
  
Erestor looked from one to the other, confused. He had heard whispers of dark happenings, and he had seen the princes of Mirkwood - all of whom seemed nervous, overly shy and humble. Not at all how he had heard them described by travelers. They had sounded obnoxious, proud and protective of their realm. The councilor wondered where the stories had come from. He had only thought the dark whispers were about the forest itself, however, and had not for a moment suspected that anything had happened to the elves.  
  
"Did Lord Elrond separate them?" asked the singer. Glorfindel shook his head sadly.  
  
"Why do you ask?"  
  
"I asked them if they had been threatened with being separated in to apologizing to me, but they said they had already been separated. If it was not Lord Elrond, who was it?"  
  
"It was orcs," came a new voice, so low the three elves of Imladris had almost missed it. They turned around to see who the newcomers were, and gasped. It was the six princes, staring back at them with hollow, haunted eyes.  
  
"Where did the twins go?" asked Oroweth  
  
Lindir pointed down the dark path.  
  
"They just ran off as soon as Glorfindel and Erestor appeared," he said. The elf trailed off as the three older princes dashed off in the same direction as the twins. Legolas looked nervously at the two older elves, one of whom was clearly confused, but hiding it well. He sidled over to Lindir and pressed something in to the elf's hands. Then, following the direction of their brothers, Thellind, Nilwethion and Legolas ran off in to the darkness.  
  
Lindir looked down at the object in his hands. It was a dark, wooden flute with silver ivy leaves engraved on it. A smile crept across his face and he lifted the flute to his lips to play a tune on it. The sound came ringing and clear, but heartbroken and haunting. The elf looked at the flute, and then at the two older elves.  
  
"Now," said Erestor, calm yet impatient, "perhaps one of you could tell me what on Arda is happening."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Elladan!"  
  
"Elrohir!"  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"Elladan! Elrohir! It is only us!"  
  
Legolas sighed and ran his fingers through his golden hair. He looked at their surroundings. The cloudless night sky was lit up with stars, and the sound of splashing water echoed from not far away. The princes were scattered along a wide, leaf covered path, surrounded by trees. Unlike the forest of Mirkwood, the trees were not packed closely together, and pretty little plants were silhouetted against the woody floor.  
  
"I have found one of them!" the call of Nuryävié rang down the path, alerting his brothers. Elladan, who it turned out to be, was sitting cuddled under the protection of a birch tree. His knees were drawn up to his chest and his arms were wrapped around them. His dark hair fell over his face, which was hidden in his knees. Legolas jogged up, and knelt down on the dry ground, putting his arm around Elladan's shoulders.  
  
"Elladan?" ventured Nuryävié, "Elladan, it is us. Where is Elrohir?"  
  
Elladan looked up and rested his chin on his knees. His eyes shone brightly in the starlight. The princes waited expectantly for an answer.  
  
"He has gone to the stables," said Elladan, finally. "He always goes to the stables when he is upset."  
  
Oroweth and Astaler pulled their half elf friend to his feet, and made their way back down the path. The other four princes looked at each other for a few moments. Again, as had happened in his bedroom, Legolas looked around for Calensil. Again, she was not there. The prince reprimanded himself for being silly. Of course Calensil was not there. How could she be?  
  
"Do you remember the second time we were in the caves of the orcs," he said suddenly, "Astaler said we would be able to meet our brother in the halls of Mandos, and then I reminded him about Calensil and Hollinethir?"  
  
His brothers nodded slowly. It was a memory they did not cherish, and would rather not think about.  
  
"Well . . . now that Calensil and Hollinethir are dead, and naneth with them, what is holding us here? Would it not have been better to die by the hands of the orcs and been with the others than abide here in Arda in misery?"  
  
"What about adar?" asked Nuryävié. His voice quavered, as though he was unsure about what he was saying. An advocate.  
  
"What of him? He hates us!"  
  
"It is too late now anyway," said Nilwethion sadly. "It is not as though we can kill ourselves, or each other. We would be cursed."  
  
The four elves began to walk back along the woody path back up to Imladris, so that they could find the stables where Elrohir was. In the distance, they heard a mournful tune playing. Lindir was obviously testing his new flute.  
  
"Perhaps. . ." began Legolas, and then he trailed off, thinking deeply.  
  
"Perhaps what?" asked Nuryävié.  
  
"Perhaps we might go on a hunt, and perhaps we might accidentally stumble upon orcs, and perhaps the orcs might accidentally kill us," Legolas said.  
  
"Perhaps our spirits would then go to the halls of Mandos," whispered Nilwethion, "And our family would all be joined together."  
  
Thellind clapped his hands for attention, and then pointed westwards. His brothers looked in the direction he was pointing.  
  
"I suppose we could sail to Valinor, but who knows how long they will be in the halls of Mandos," pondered Legolas, "Although if we accidentally stumble upon a party of orcs, we must all be together. As we must be if we cross the sea. Whatever happens, we must always be together."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In Mirkwood, Culkemen and Silnan raced down the dark path on their grey horses. The galloping hooves thudded in to the ground, leaving deep marks in the damp ground. It had rained the night before, and the ground had still not completely dried out.  
  
As they rounded a bend, the two elves heard a shout from behind them.  
  
"Captain Silnan!"  
  
The two elves drew their horses to a halt, and turned around. Twenty elves emerged from the shadowy undergrowth. The leader stood forward. His hair was long and silver, and tied back in to a tight plait. A naked sword was held in his hand, dripping with spider blood. A bow was slung across his back, and he had a half empty quiver. The new elf was dressed in the attire of the warriors of the woodland realm. Silnan dismounted and walked over to the twenty elves.  
  
"Lachion, my old friend! How goes the mission?"  
  
Lachion, the leader of the twenty elves, rolled his eyes.  
  
"How does any observation mission go? Ridiculously slowly! You are the first elven life we have seen in over a year!"  
  
Silnan froze.  
  
"So. . .you have not heard of the fate of the queen and her daughters? Or the princes? Or of the orcs?"  
  
Lachion tilted his head to the side, confused.  
  
"No. What has happened?"  
  
The elf shook his head sadly, and related to his old friend everything that had happened since the arrival of the Imladris elves. As they listened, the faces of the elves grew grimmer and grimmer. When Silnan had finished his long story, Lachion stood still and silent for a few moments. When he spoke, his voice was low and quiet.  
  
"It seems to me that your mission is much more important than ours. We shall come with you to Imladris to fetch back our princes. What was king Thranduil thinking of, trusting those forsaken half bloods? He should never have trusted any lord with Noldor blood in their veins!"  
  
A grim smile found its way on to Silnan's face.  
  
"That, Lachion, is exactly what I said!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Oh, what a fun chapter! For those of you who aren't sure, or don't know, Erestor is not my character. He belongs to the wonderful J.R.R.Tolkien. So does Lindir. So do all the obvious characters, like Glorfindel and Elrond.  
  
Lachion belongs to me. First he wasn't even going to be in the story, and then he was going to be a she (Lachiel) but then I decided he ought to be a he, and there he is. As you see him in the chapter.  
  
I've just been looking through the old chapters, and I've just realized that I used to give cookies out. I wonder why I stopped. . . *gives reviewers cherry 'n' choc chip cookies* hehe.  
  
PERSONAL REPLY THINGY  
  
MORBID MIND ~ thank you, m'dear  
  
DISCODELIC ~ second reviewer, actually (. Have you been reading it for a while? I hate Mondays too. Actually, I hate all school days. I just hate school  
  
ELIZABETHBLACK4 ~ but that chapter wasn't very emotion. Especially compared to other chapters I've written! Somebody else asked that. He is in fact 15ish, as you guessed, but he had to grow very quickly when he was captured by the orcs. Seeing his naneth and sisters killed also made him age a lot.  
  
ORODRUIN ~ *applauds* well done! You got them right! Silnan is very brave, yes, but he is also ridiculously proud, and didn't like how Mithrandir seemed to be taking charge of their lives for them.  
  
EBONY FALCON ~ ah, you'll just have to wait to find out what happens to Legolas and the others. He might get captured, he might not.  
  
CHRYSTYNA ~ *blushes brightly* wow, thanks!  
  
LAINFAER ~ I like Lindir as well. Arwen isn't usually this hyped up, but she was still fun to write.  
  
LOTRSEER3350 ~ the French exchange was great fun, but the lady we were staying with gave us fish paste, which was disgusting! The two talking at the end were Legolas and Thellind. The rescuer was Thellind, and Legolas was watching from the shrubbery.  
  
COOLIO02 ~ I wouldn't call the twins treacherous. Devious little delinquents, yes, but not treacherous.  
  
SARA ~ yup, your sister reviewed the story a while back. The strings of the harp were ruined, but the rest of the harp was fine. It'll take quite a while for Thranduil to get his sons back. It takes a very long time to get from his hall to Imladris.  
  
IRISH QT ~ yes, that is indeed a very wonderful word. *Savors said word* 


	32. Dust And Tears

CHAPTER 32 - Dust And Tears  
  
"Astaler, Oroweth, just listen for a moment!"  
  
Four nights had passed since the princes of Mirkwood had first delved in to the thoughts of running away from Imladris to find their deaths, but they had only just told Oroweth and Astaler, who had not been present when the idea was first formulated. The two eldest princes, however, were taking a lot of convincing to go along with the idea.  
  
Oroweth and Astaler looked at Nuryävié suspiciously. If any of the four could persuade them to hunt orcs and 'accidentally' loose their lives, it would be Nuryävié. The prince looked pleadingly at his elder brothers.  
  
"The four of us are going to find a way to get to the halls of Mandos one way or another. Please, come with us. Do not split the family up any further than it already is."  
  
"You are all insane!" muttered Astaler. "How do you know where there are orcs t be found on this side of the mountains? You would wander around the wilderness, lost and hungry, every day becoming more and more desperate, more and more insane! Can you not see that?"  
  
The six princes paused in their conversation as a pair of elven maidens walked passed, one of whom was Aliela. She smiled sweetly at Legolas and waved to him as her companion watched Oroweth with interest. Legolas waved back at her, but his smile was fake. Aliela noticed and frowned, opening her mouth to ask what was wrong, only to be pulled away by her friend.  
  
As soon as they were out of earshot, Legolas continued with the flow of the conversation.  
  
"The realm of Angmar is to the north. All we need to do is follow the mountains northward, and we would find it eventually. I can find out about it from the twins. They do not suspect our plans. Please, do not desert us like adar did."  
  
The last sentence, mixed with a look of such cuteness it could have envied Calensil, had she still been alive, made Oroweth and Astaler shift guiltily. Legolas felt a surge of triumph as he watched his brothers squirm.  
  
"If we do go along with this. . ." began Oroweth slowly  
  
"And we are not promising anything!" cut in Astaler  
  
". . . Then you must do exactly as we say. Do not let a whisper of this plan escape, otherwise Elrond will never let us even look at the path leading away from Imladris, understand?" The four princes nodded soberly at Oroweth's words. They made a lot of sense, especially after recent events. They doubted Elrond would want the death of six elves, royal or not, on his hands.  
  
As a cold wind blew through Imladris, brushing dead leaves that had fallen from sleeping trees with it, the princes wrapped their blue cloaks around themselves. The sun stared down at them, but offered little heat. A sign that autumn would soon come to and end, and that winter was fast approaching.  
  
"So you will search for Angmar with us?"  
  
After a moment, Oroweth and Astaler nodded their heads. Grins of relief lit up the faces of their four brothers.  
  
"We were half scared you would tell Elrond our plans and force us to stay here!" exclaimed Nilwethion.  
  
"Why would you think that?" asked Astaler, sounding hurt. "We would never betray you!"  
  
"Well, in all fairness, you have told adar many of our plots before." Retorted Legolas. Astaler shrugged at this.  
  
"Never again, little brother. Never again."  
  
There was another pause whilst everyone tried to think of something to say. It seemed that, for the moment, there was nothing they could say. That was when another voice startled them.  
  
"You. . .you really are planning to kill yourselves?"  
  
The princes span around with shock, to see who had been listening to their conversation. Lindir stood there, staring back at them with wide, blue eyes, clutching in one hand the dark, wooden flute that Legolas had given to him four nights ago. For a moment, none of them spoke, and Lindir covered his mouth as he realised that what he had heard was true. He blinked twice, and then ran off.  
  
Legolas sprinted off in to the airy house after Lindir, followed by the others, in an attempt to catch the singer. His prey, however, knew the building much better than Legolas did, and was soon lost, much to the terror of his pursuers.  
  
"He will tell Elrond!" whispered Nilwethion. Thellind nodded frantically. The princes in exile stood nervously, looking around at the high arches, the detailed paintings on the walls, the branching network of corridors and the climbing stairs not far away. There was no way of telling which way Lindir had run.  
  
"He might tell Erestor, or Glorfindel. He seems quite close to them."  
  
"He could tell anyone."  
  
"Who could tell anyone what?"  
  
For the second time that day, the six elves jumped in shock and turned to see who had crept up on them. To their horror, Glorfindel was standing there looking at them suspiciously. His golden hair flowed over his shoulders, and his deep red robes hung over his shoulders, tiny scarlet threads patterning them to look like ivy creeping up a tree. Legolas felt as though he was shrinking to the size of an ant as Glorfindel strode over to them.  
  
"Well?" he asked, "I am waiting for an answer."  
  
"We. . .we were. . ." Legolas looked around for inspiration, and found it in one of the pictures painted on to the wall just behind the imposing figure of Glorfindel. "We were talking about passing west. We, um, feel as though we are intruding upon Imladris, and we have caused your people nothing but trouble and worry since we first met. If it was not for us challenging Elladan and Elrohir to that silly game of dares, the orcs would never have captured Elladan and taken him to the caves, and there would not have been the skirmish on the path when you were trying to save Calensil and naneth which cost your people lives! There is nothing left for us in Middle Earth anymore. We were not going to say anything, because we did not want to cause you any more trouble, but Lindir heard us and he thought we were going to try and kill ourselves or something stupid because we were talking about seeing our family in the halls of Mandos, and he ran off before we could explain anything. All we wanted to do was stop causing trouble." He paused, and looked at the floor sadly. "Knowing our luck, if we take a ship to Valinor, it will probably sink on the way."  
  
Oroweth shut his eyes, not expecting Glorfindel to believe a word of the tale Legolas had spun so quickly, with so little thought put in to it. He expected Glorfindel to loose his temper and demand the truth, but it did not come. Instead, after a moment or two of silence, Oroweth opened his eyes.  
  
Glorfindel was standing there looking at Legolas with a strange look in his eyes. Was it. . . pity? Or sorrow perhaps? The ancient elf shook his head sadly, completely taken in by the lie. Oroweth was astounded. He was used to Legolas spinning tales, but usually Thranduil saw right through them. Perhaps because he had so much practise, or perhaps just because he did not trust his younger sons to tell the truth unless, for some strange reason, it took their fancy.  
  
"I assure you that your coming to Imladris has been no problem for any of us If you are sure, however, that you want to sail to Valinor, this is a case for Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian, not me. Would you like to rest on the matter, and take it to them tomorrow?."  
  
Legolas nodded, a sorrowful look in his eyes. Glorfindel bowed to them and turned around, walking off down one of the curved corridors. The six elven brothers breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
After looking around to make sure that they were not being watched, Astaler spoke.  
  
"We can convince Elrond tomorrow that we feel we must set sail for Valinor, leave Imladris and head west, and then turn northwards to find Angmar once we are a day or two away from Imladris." He whispered. His brothers nodded their agreement.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A small party of twenty three elves was making its way up one of the Misty Mountains faster than any mortal could have thought possible to move up such a steep climb. The two in the lead were on weary, grey horses. The other twenty one were on foot, but keeping up very well. Rain drizzled down on them half heartedly, but failed to damped their angry spirits.  
  
"Who would have thought it possible?" muttered Culkemen, her mossy green cloak pulled up over her head, protecting her from the elements. "From the boarders of Mirkwood to the slopes of the Misty Mountains in four days!"  
  
Captain Silnan looked at her oddly. "Four days? Is that it? Now you come to mention it, I fail to be surprised. We have only stopped once. Then again, this miserable weather is doing its level best to slow us down!"  
  
The elf shook his fist at the grey clouds above him.  
  
"Is that the best you can do?" he yelled at the sky. "Your attempts to slow us down are pathetic!"  
  
As if in reply, a thunderbolt struck the narrow path between Culkemen and Silnan. Their horses reared, throwing off their riders, and galloped off in to the distance. The two captains were helped up by the other elves, and Silnan swore under his breath. Culkemen glared at him and shook her head, keeping quiet. She picked up her soaked spear and clenched it in her fist. It was going to be a long march.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Legolas lay on his bed, looking up at the dome like ceiling of his bedroom and sighed. The morning had gone well, with Elrond believing the hurriedly created tale of the need to sail west, but then Elladan and Elrohir had demanded to be given permission to ride to the havens with their friends. Elrond had also sent a messenger to Cirdan, telling him to ready a ship for the princes to take to the Valinor.  
  
The six Mirkwood princes had argued, yes, saying that it was dangerous for Elladan and Elrohir to journey to the havens, in case they heard the cry of a gull and felt the need to go even further west than originally intended, over the sundering seas with the princes. The twins had shrugged at this, declaring that they did not care about gulls and that they would take the risk for their friends. They would have to find a way to dissuade the twins before they left.  
  
That left five days.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It had taken them two days to do it, but the elves of Mirkwood, now all on foot, had made it over the top of the mountain, and were on their way down. The weather changed, turning from rain to snow as the temperature dropped dramatically. It seemed that all the forces of nature were trying to stop the elves from reaching their goal of rescuing their princes.  
  
Behind Culkemen, Silnan was jogging alongside Lachion, ranting about the Noldor, the weather and wizards interfering in business that did not concern them. Lachion, when he could get a word in edgeways, agreed wholeheartedly with his friend. The elves behind them stayed silent for the most part, occasionally letting their thoughts be heard on whatever it was Silnan was ranting about.  
  
"Silnan!" Silnan stopped the flow of his words and looked up at Culkemen, running down the slopes ahead of him.  
  
"Yes?" He asked her, slightly annoyed at being interrupted.  
  
"Where is Imladris?"  
  
Silnan and Lachion ran up beside Culkemen, speeding up their pace. They looked around at the land spread out before them like a table cloth. It took Silnan only a moment to find their destination. He pointed to a clear valley, full of reds and browns and other autumn colours, as if time there was slightly behind the rest of the cold world, verging on the very edge of winter.  
  
"There." He said. His voice was brimmed with anger and hatred and malice, all aimed at Imladris and its residents. Culkemen looked down at it, anger refilling her heart as she thought of how the elves living there had stolen away her princes with lies and deceit, but failed to watch where she was going.  
  
The elf stood on a loose stone, and it gave way, bowling her over. She tumbled down the craggy mountain side, and more and more bits of loose stone and rock gave way, falling after her, creating a landslide.  
  
The landslide quickly caught the other elves in its deadly snares, dragging them all down the mountains. About twelve of them managed to keep their feet, including Silnan and Lachion, but the rest were thrown of balance, caught unawares. They slipped and slithered on the shale, arms waving about madly as they tried not to fall and be crushed.  
  
The roar of the stone, suddenly brought to life, echoed around the hills, sending both small and large creatures scurrying for their lives to escape the landslide.  
  
To the luck of the elves, it was the forest at the bottom that saved them. The rock fall sent them sliding and tumbling in to a wood of oak trees that stood higher up the mountainside than most. Some managed to catch hold of branches and swing themselves up out of the way of the stones, and then they caught hold of their companions who would otherwise have been swept away, and pulled them up in to the trees. There, in the trees, the elves sat waiting for the landslide to end, which at last it did. Like squirrels, the elves climbed from branch to branch down the rest of the slope, careful not to make the rocks and stones start sliding again.  
  
When they reached the valley at the bottom, night had fallen. The first to drop to the leafy floor, having left the stones far behinds them, was Culkemen. As soon as her feet touched the ground, twenty two others followed.  
  
"Is anybody hurt?" she asked, looking around at them all. The elves shook their heads. She breathed a sigh of relief as she took in the dusty faces.  
  
"Good," shouted Silnan, taking control again, "Then we can go and find our princes!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Looking around at Imladris for what they suspected would be the last time, the six brothers from Mirkwood mounted their horses, accompanied, much to their hidden worry, by Elladan and Elrohir. They had not been able to find a way to shake the twins off them without insulting them or hurting their feelings, which none of the princes wanted to do. In the grey light of dawn, few of the household of Elrond had turned up to watch them go. Only six elves stood there in sight; Lord Elrond, Lady Celebrian, Arwen, Glorfindel and Erestor were there. Most of the elves had not been told the princes were leaving, as Elrond decided to keep the departure quiet. In the trees though, another pair of eyes watched them leave.  
  
As the eight horses trotted under the archway, following the path that lead to the havens, Lindir began to play a mournful melody from his hidden seat in the high tree. Elladan and Elrohir looked up at him, and they smiled. Since begging his forgiveness, they had been as nice to him as possible. Almost too nice. Helping him do the smallest of tasks and complementing everything he sang or played.  
  
When the eight elves had turned the bend in the woody path, and the farewell party were turning around to leave, a figure came running down the steps, deep blue skirts billowing out wildly.  
  
Aliela ran under the archway, clutching something in her hand. A tear fell from her eyes as she realized she had missed the princes leaving, and she stared down the winding path. Letting the object she had been holding in her hand fall to the ground, she choked back a sob, and ran back in the direction she had come from, her face in her hands.  
  
Carefully, Celebrian picked up the object Aliela had dropped on the path, and looked at it.  
  
Whatever it was, it had wrapped in a lacy, flower embroidered handkerchief that had been tied with a pink ribbon. Celebrian untied the ribbon, unfolded the handkerchief and sighed. A little golden locket was resting in the middle of some fresh petals. She opened it up, and sighed again. On one side of the locket was a little sketch of a smiling Aliela, and on the other side was an equally small sketch of Imladris. Celebrian closed the locket and wrapped it up again in its handkerchief, slipping it in to a small pouch. She would leave it on Aliela's pillow in the afternoon.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Staring strait ahead of him, Legolas refused to turn around and look back at Imladris as it became smaller and smaller behind them. He rode silently beside Thellind, who was watching the sun rising and turning the sky pale blue.  
  
Ahead of them, Nuryävié was singing a mournful tune, lamenting for Calensil and their naneth. Legolas smiled softly. He would be seeing them again soon, oh so soon!  
  
He reached in to the pack on his back, searching for something precious. As he fumbled about for it, his face fell. Desperately, he began to search through the pack, and his fears were confirmed.  
  
He had left Lin the teddy bear in Imladris. Bad luck was to come.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Didn't I promise you a nice, long chapter? Well, long for me, at any rate. N-e-a-r-l-y finished the story now. I'm really sorry about the lack of chapter last week. Really, really, really sorry. I won't do it again - with this story, at least.  
  
PERSONAL REPLY THINGY  
  
DRAGONFLY ~ yup, it's all going wrong for everyone. It always seems to. In a way, the princes WERE kidnapped by the Imladris elves. At least, as far as the Mirkwood elves are concerned.  
  
ELIZABETHBLACK4 ~ sorry, um, who's Linden? *blink* Do you mean Lachion? Or Lindir? Or did I make a spelling mistake somewhere? The princes don't realize Thranduil is dying of a broken heart, because they don't think he cares about them any more.  
  
LAINFAER ~ yeah, the twins are fine. No worries.  
  
EBONY FALCON ~ Nah, Legolas doesn't get killed. He needs to be alive for Lord of the Rings, which hasn't happened yet. I can't promise you any of my own characters survive though. . . *evil grin*  
  
COOLIO02 ~ thanks very much!  
  
PMOCHIZUKI ~ the ages of the elves are mentioned in one of the A/N's at the bottom of the chapter. Can't remember which one right now though. *grins widely* thanks for adding me to your favorites list! I bet you realize how much it means, being an author yourself. I occasionally get the feeling my reviewers want to kill me, but not so often any more. *looks at reviewers* *sees murderous glares* um. . .  
  
MOONMIST ~ didn't your sister mind you using her Barbie dolls? Thanks for the compliments.  
  
DISCODELIC ~ *gasp* since chapter 24? How come you didn't review before? *looks hurt*. Do you mean the note Lady V left at the top of one of her chapters, or do you talk to her online? Don't you just love her stories? Lady V and her muses rock!  
  
ORODRUIN ~ yeah, I feel really sorry for all the princes at the moment. Silnan will be more angry to find that the Imladris elves let the princes go 'hunting' than he would be to find them in Imladris. He would get blazing mad that the Imladris elves were careless enough to let the princes try anything LIKE what they're planning to do. Lindir is very forgiving, and he's just glad the twins have stopped picking on him. Um. . .y'know how you said I pretty much always keep to my schedule? Well, um, it *would* happen that the one week you choose to say that I would go and miss a week. *Cowers* 'M very sorry!  
  
MORBID MIND ~ Thanks very much!  
  
LARVLE ~ I made this chapter a lot longer. Do you think I made it long enough?  
  
BULEGRISTWEN ~ yes, it was really mean, wasn't it? I don't think the princes realized how nasty they were being though. 


	33. Death Of Us All

CHAPTER 33 - Death Of Us All  
  
Sitting beneath his favourite tree, Lindir played a tune on his black flute. He winced as he hit an incorrect note, and lowered the instrument, looking at it with sorrow. From the trees, he was being watched, although he did not know.  
  
"Something is wrong with him," whispered Erestor to Glorfindel, "He never plays badly. That is the fifth time this hour he has tried to play that tune, and the fifth time he has failed. Something troubles him."  
  
His companion nodded soberly as they watched Lindir hide his head in his hands.  
  
"We must ask him."  
  
Another nod. The pair dropped quietly from the dry branch they had been sitting on to the cold, leaf covered earth. Purposefully, they had made as much noise as possible, to attract the attention of Lindir. The young musician did not look up. Exchanging worried glances, the older elves tried making even more noise. When this failed to attract attention, Glorfindel sighed.  
  
"Lindir!"  
  
Lindir gave a startled jump, and leapt to his feet, nervously fiddling with the black flute in his hands.  
  
"I. . . I am sorry, I did not realise you were there." He said, his voice trembling slightly.  
  
"What is troubling you, Lindir? You never make a mistake with your music." Erestor looked at Lindir, his pale face full of concern.  
  
"It is. . .it is nothing."  
  
"I find that difficult to believe, Lindir. Look me in the eye and tell me the truth."  
  
Biting his lip, Lindir looked Glorfindel in the eye. Glorfindel stared strait back, as if glaring right through the young elf, with his piercing blue eyes.  
  
"The. . .the princes," he began, "They. . ." he shivered and trailed off, diverting his eyes.  
  
"The princes, Lindir? What about them?" asked Erestor, kindly. There was a rustle from the bushes around them, and tall, cloaked figures stepped out, each one of them armed to the teeth.  
  
"Yes, Lindir," said one, seemingly the leader, "What do you know about our princes?"  
  
The speaker pulled the dark hood of his cloak back, revealing his face. Glorfindel gasped as he realised it was Silnan. He and the captain had become good friends during the stay in Mirkwood, but now he had become dangerous and hostile. In the blink of an eye, Silnan grabbed Lindir around the shoulders, drew his blade, and rested it across the throat of the young elf. Lindir let out a squeak of stunned surprise. The other elves, Erestor counted ten, each drew long, dazzling swords and aimed them at Erestor and Glorfindel. Glorfindel reached for his sword, but was stopped by Silnan's angry voice.  
  
"I would not do that if I were you, Silnan. We have more archers sitting in the branches, just waiting for an excuse to shoot you more full of arrows than the orcs were at the small village outside Dale!"  
  
Slowly, Glorfindel looked around at the trees. Sitting around, each with bows and arrows trained directly at him, were cloaked archers, glowering. The elf lord moved his hand away from the sword, glowering back.  
  
"Now then, little elfling, shall we send one of your friends to fetch our princes? Sending a couple of our nice archers along with them so they cannot try anything, of course." The three elves of Imladris noted the sarcastic stress put on the word 'nice'. Silnan pressed his sword deeper in to the skin of his prisoner, so much so that a small drop of blood trickled down Lindir's throat, seeping in to his green tunic. The elf whimpered.  
  
"The princes are no longer here!" hissed Erestor, angrily. "They have left for Valinor. You missed them by two days."  
  
A few of the Mirkwood warriors, both on the ground and in the trees, cried out with anger and despair. Captain Silnan snarled angrily and opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by Lindir.  
  
"No! No, they have not."  
  
He suddenly had the full attention of every elf in the vicinity. Glorfindel and Erestor looked at him, perplexed.  
  
"Keep talking, little elf!" The blade at his throat shifted slightly, and Lindir began to blurt out everything he knew, terror taking over.  
  
"They only said that so that you would not question why they wanted to leave. They are really going to find the realm of Angmar so that they can die and see their family again. I heard them talking about it a week before they left. I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I could not help it." As the sword tickled his throat, Lindir squeezed his eyes shut, a small tear escaping and trickling down his cheek.  
  
For a moment, there was silent. Then Glorfindel spoke in a hushed and shocked voice.  
  
"They lied to us!"  
  
"You lied to them. A lie for a lie, you filthy creatures!" spat one of the warriors from the trees. That comment was greeted by angry agreement. Glorfindel narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to argue back, but Erestor shook his head quickly. Glorfindel closed his mouth, and satisfied himself with glowering at the elves of Mirkwood.  
  
"It is time for us to go and find Angmar, I think." Said one of the warriors. Pulling her hood back, Culkemen strode up to Glorfindel and Erestor, lowering her sword. She looked at them both for a moment, and then slapped Glorfindel hard across his face.  
  
"Tie them to a tree and leave them to be found by their people," she ordered. The elves on the ground grabbed the two unlucky elves and dragged them to two trees. Rope was brought out from somewhere, and Erestor and Glorfindel found themselves being bound up so tightly they could not move, and the cords bit in to their skin, leaving red marks. The knots where secured, and then the two friends were gagged so they could not call for help, and cloaks were thrown across their heads. From the darkness, they heard the voice of one of the elves saying; "We will take your young friend with us. If you try to follow him, we will not hesitate to slit his throat."  
  
After that, there was silence.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The elven party jogged down the road, trying to find a trace of their princes. At the front of the party, Lindir was being dragged along by Silnan, his wrists bound with rope. The captain was still in a rage, his blood boiling. Others, however, were no longer in such a murderous mood as they had been earlier in the morning.  
  
"Silnan, perhaps you ought to untie his wrists. It slows him down." Culkemen had begun to feel slightly motherly to the young elf being held as a hostage. She was missing her own daughter terribly, and was searching in her heart for a substitute. She had found it in the young and innocent musician. Her suggestion was met by a glare.  
  
"Perhaps you ought to keep your mind on finding our princes."  
  
Culkemen growled. She drew a white dagger, and with one quick swish she cut the bonds around Lindir's wrists. The elf gave a small whimper as Silnan stopped dead and glared at Culkemen. Around them, the other elves stopped and turned to watch.  
  
"What do you think you are doing?"  
  
"Perhaps you ought to ask yourself that question, Silnan. The young one is innocent. He had nothing to do with kidnapping our princes. If it was not for him, we would think that they had gone to Valinor. How do you think king Thranduil would react to that? If he has not yet died of a broken heart, that is."  
  
For a few moments, the pair of angry captains stared at each other. Silnan spat on the ground.  
  
"He is from Imladris. It is enough."  
  
From the back of the group of elves, Lachion strode through to break up the argument, but he was not needed. A horse came stumbling around the bend in the road, two injured elves on its back. One was unconscious and the other could barely keep his eyes open, but there were no visible wounds. Silnan felt a surge of worry and pity for the two elves, but when he saw their identical faces, the worry and pity turned to black hate. Lindir gasped.  
  
Silnan, with anger, grabbed the reigns of the horse and pulled it to a stop, then pulled Elladan off the horse, the conscious one of the two twins. Elladan stumbled and forced his eyes to stay open. When he realised he was being held up by an angry Mirkwood captain, he gasped.  
  
"Where are our princes?" demanded Silnan. The elves behind him drew their bows and aimed them at the twins, but there was no need.  
  
"I. . .I do not know." Replied Elladan  
  
"What happened to you?"  
  
"We were attacked by bandits. Mortals. We fought back. Thought they were all dead. Then someone hit my head. Must have still been a bandit alive. Only just woken up. The princes. . . they had gone. I do not know where. Only one horse left. Lost the other. Taking Elrohir back to adar. Then going to look for them."  
  
The elf swayed, and almost collapsed in Silnan's arms, but somehow he managed to stay upright. He blinked dozily.  
  
"He must have concussion," Culkemen said, hurrying up beside Silnan. Silnan swore beneath his breath. Lachion grabbed Lindir, making sure he would not be able to run away. Lindir stared at Elladan and Elrohir, working out in his mind what had happened. Although the twins had picked on him many times, the musician was terrified for them.  
  
"We can not send them back to Imladris or Elrond will send elves out on a search for the princes and for anymore bandits. We cannot keep them here, or they will hinder us." Again, Silnan blasphemed. This time it was not under his breath.  
  
"They know that if they follow us you will kill Lindir."  
  
Elladan narrowed his eyes.  
  
"You will not dare to hurt Lindir. The kinslayings were all in the first age."  
  
"Do not dare to tell me what I will or will not do! History repeats itself!" Silnan shouted. His face began to tinge red. A vein pulsed in his forehead. Lachion's grip on Lindir tightened. Silnan carried on, his voice a low hiss.  
  
"Culkemen will escort you back to Imladris. She will leave you there, and then she will come back and find us. You have no choice in the matter. If you even dare look around my dear friend Lachion will make sure Lindir is hurt. Do you understand?"  
  
Elladan looked around at the hostile elves surrounding him, and tried to focus. He failed. Giving up, he nodded reluctantly.  
  
"Why must I take them back?" argued Culkemen, her lips thin with anger and frustration.  
  
"Because I told am commanding you to. Now go!"  
  
With a low growl in her throat, Culkemen helped Elladan swing himself back up on to the horse, took the reigns, and marched off quickly down the path, muttering darkly under her breath about the madness that seemed to have taken over Silnan. He was not the captain she had known before the visit of the Imladris elves.  
  
The warriors watched her go, and Lindir trembled. With Culkemen gone, he had nobody to defend him from the wrath of Silnan. He held his breath as Silnan looked at him, but sighed with relief as the captain turned away again and began to stride off in the opposite direction to Culkemen. The warriors quickly began to march off after him, pulling Lindir along with them.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
About an hour later when the sun had reached its zenith, the elves came across the spot where the bandits had attacked the elves. Twelve dead bodies lay there, blood staining the earth. They were all human bodies. They had, in life, been men with dark hair, scars on their skin and rusty coloured clothes. To the elves they all looked very similar. The only sign that elves had ever been there was a white dagger, similar to the one owned by Culkemen. It stuck out of the body of one of the mortals. Lachion pulled it out of the body, and the body groaned. The man was still alive. Lachion prodded it with a foot, and with difficulty, the mortal opened his eyes.  
  
"You attacked a party of eight elves this morning," said the elf, "We have found two of them. Where are the other six?"  
  
With a cough of spluttered laughter, the bandit looked up at the fierce elf above him.  
  
"Why should. . . I. . . tell you?" he asked. It obviously took great effort to speak. Lachion knelt down next to the blood covered mortal and tried to look sympathetic.  
  
"If you tell us, I can help you."  
  
The black haired man narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Promise?"  
  
Nodding, Lachion smiled sweetly at the dying mortal.  
  
"Yes, I promise."  
  
"They went. . . Northwards. Knocked. . .out. . .their friends," he said. With every word, his voice grew rougher and quieter. "Looked. . .for. . .death. Now you. . . help. . . me."  
  
"Help you?" asked Lachion. His voice lost all the sweetness it had held a moment. "Yes, I will help you. Help you to die."  
  
With a flash of his sword, Lachion had slit the mans throat. He stood up and looked around at his companions.  
  
"We go north."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
By the time Culkemen had managed to cross the fords of Bruinen and entered Imladris, the sun was setting and the sky was lit up dark oranges and deep, autumn like reds. She was in a bad mood. For the sake of it, she had tied the hands of Elladan and Elrohir, but only because Elrohir had continually pestered her to turn around and rescue Lindir. She had needed to find someway to shut him up. A few hours ago, Elrohir had woken up and since then he had continually grumbled at her, like Elladan had, to go back for Lindir. After wading through the fords of Bruinen her legs were soaking wet, making her mood worse.  
  
Suddenly, Culkemen found herself and the twins surrounded by elves. She stared strait ahead, right through the one standing directly before her. She recognized him as the elf she had slapped earlier in the day. He glared at her.  
  
"You brats, sir."  
  
"Do not refer to the sons of Elrond as brats," came the cold reply. Culkemen glared.  
  
"I will refer to them however I choose."  
  
Elves helped Elladan and Elrohir down from the horse, and grabbed hold of Culkemen. They marched her quickly along with them down the leafy path. As they walked, the elves behind her fussed over the twins. To her annoyance, she heard them insulting her, Mirkwood, the rest of the elves with her and the princes. Wisely, she decided to keep her mouth shut.  
  
The elves lead her in to the main building. It took all her will power not to look at her surroundings with fascination and awe, but she refused to let herself seem interested in anything to with the kidnapping thieves she saw them as. About half the group split away down a long, curved corridor to her left, taking the twins with them. Culkemen supposed that they were taking them to the healing rooms, but would not allow herself to try and see. She held her head high, telling herself that she was above every other elf in the area.  
  
As Culkemen was marched along down corridor after corridor, elven faces appeared at the top of stairs and staring at her through archways and through windows. She felt blood rising to her face, embarrassed at such unwanted attention.  
  
At last, she was lead in to a large room, filled with candle light, books and ancient scrolls. The elf guiding her, for the rest had left one by one, leaving only the one she had slapped, pushed her gently forwards. Culkemen found herself staring defiantly in to the eyes of Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian. Not far away, their beautiful daughter sat watching, tear marks staining her cheeks. The former elf, dressed in robes of deep red with his silky black hair flowing free down his back, folded his arms and stared back at her.  
  
"Your people have kidnapped a member of my household. Lord Glorfindel here has described to me exactly what took place this morning. If you want your princes back, holding one of the youngest members of my household captive will not help you in the slightest."  
  
The pretty captain of Mirkwood stared ahead, her arms folded across her chest in defiance and her head held high. She chose not to reply.  
  
"Tell me, captain, why did you kidnap Lindir?"  
  
"Why did you kidnap our princes?" the reply came out harsher than she had meant it to sound, but there was nothing she could do about it. She bit her lip. Lady Celebrian gave an astonished gasp, not expecting such a sharp answer.  
  
"They came to Imladris because they chose to, just as they left because you chose to."  
  
"They came because you filled their heads with poisonous lies, making them think their adar hated them."  
  
Where she was sitting not far away, Arwen began crying in to a handkerchief. Her sobs at first annoyed Culkemen, but then the motherly feelings began growing inside her again as she thought of her young daughter back in Mirkwood. Lady Celebrian glided over to her daughter and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.  
  
"We fed your princes no lies." Elrond said, defensive. Culkemen gave him a disbelieving look.  
  
"Liar."  
  
The elf lord looked towards his wife and daughter, and then back at the Mirkwood elf. He shook his head sadly.  
  
"I am afraid that, until Lindir is returned to us safe and well, we will not let you return to your people. You had better hope that they do not kill him, as I am lead to believe is the threat."  
  
In the soft candle light, Culkemen forced herself to swallow her anger. First they had taken away the princes, and now they were keeping her prisoner. What, she wondered silently, would come next?  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: *gasp* Look! A chapter without the princes! How dare I write a chapter like that? Don't worry, the next chapter will be all from their PoV.  
  
PERSONAL REIVIEW THINGY  
  
KAWAII NINGEN KITSUN ~ I might kill him, I might not ;P. Who can tell? He is my favorite of my original characters as well.  
  
MOONMIST ~ yes, Lindir is a lot smarter than most of them realize, but he puts his heart and soul in to his music. As you see, they did indeed run in to the Mirkwood elves. You're right. I can't kill Legolas. As for my own characters though. . . well, you'll just have to wait to find out. (  
  
ORODRUIN ~ irony is fun. I love irony. Silnan does seem to be in a state of being permanently furious at the moment, doesn't he?  
  
DISCODELIC ~ hey look, you got your wish! She updated. I have to go and review though. . . I haven't had time. I don't have any younger siblings, but I hate it when people read over my shoulder. Very annoying.  
  
COOLIO02 ~ yes, I did upset. Sorry about the week before last. As for their plans being foiled or not, that'll all come out in the last chapter. Note: that isn't necessarily next chapter, but it will be soon.  
  
SLIGHTLYINSANE ~ believe it or not, there is a whole forest of good stories out there! It just takes a lot of rooting around to find them. I recommend you read the stories by Treehugger.  
  
LAINFAER ~ they are going to try their hardest to get to the halls, but you'll just have to wait to see if they manage it or not. I couldn't go telling you that now, could I?  
  
ELIZABETHBLACK4 ~ Canon characters shouldn't be killed by fanwriters like that. If you have to kill a canon character, at least wait until *after* the original story! Yes, they are all the princes.  
  
LARVLE ~ yup, he left Lin behind. Very bad luck. Mind you, I never said bad luck for who.  
  
SARA ~ there could be more bad luck for the princes. Actually, scrap that. There WILL be more bad luck for the princes.  
  
BULEGRISTWEN ~ I think you're mistaking Elrohir for Elhrohir. See, Elhrohir is a Mini Balrog. Explaining what a Mini Balrog is would take too long, so I'll just point you in the direction of OFUM by Camilla Sandman. I suggest you go and read it - it is truly inspirational. 


	34. The Memory Remains

CHAPTER 34 - The Memory Remains  
  
Six horses galloped through the cold lands of Eriador heading north, having left the eastward road leading to the Grey Havens. The elven riders were silent as they rode, occasionally looking back as if they were scared that they were being followed. Here and there, large, mossy boulders stuck out of the earth in the wild, hilly grasslands that they were travelling over. No paths marked the way, only instinct and the sun, though, after living all their lives in a dark and dingy forest, the sun proved to be little help. As the sun began to set in the west, setting the sky a flame with bright colours, the blonde elf pulled his horse to a stop. The other five copied him, and they dismounted.  
  
"How far do you think we have gone?" asked Legolas, looking back over the lands they had travelled across. His eldest brother also looked back and tossed his dark hair over his shoulder.  
  
"Far enough, I think. We will rest here tonight."  
  
The brothers let the horses graze and regain their lost energy, as the princes themselves set up their camp. The fire that they made flickered in the growing darkness, reminding them of the torches that hung on the walls in the home they left behind them, far back in Mirkwood. The stars began to twinkle and shine. Rising over the sky, the silver moon lit up the sky and the land and created dim shadows over the earth here and there; a lonely tree, a shrub, the princes. Somewhere, are nightingale began to sing.  
  
Legolas looked around at their horses. The magnificent creatures had stayed close to their owners, not straying far at all. They had no need.  
  
"I think we ought to let them go," he said, as much to himself as to his brothers. Nilwethion looked up, and then walked over to his younger sibling. He nibbled a piece of lembas.  
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
With their backs to the fire, the two princes observed the horses for a moment.  
  
"We are going to find death. There is no need for them to die needlessly. Besides, if we are being followed, it will be harder to find us if we are on foot."  
  
Nilwethion considered this, and then nodded sadly.  
  
"I suppose you are right," he decided. He called his brothers, and told them Legolas' suggestion. One by one, the other four princes agreed, looking sorrowfully at the horses. Legolas got up and walked to his horse. The horse looked back at him with big, brown eyes. It was almost as if the horse knew what was coming. The young elf smiled ruefully.  
  
"I am sorry, old friend, but you have to leave us now. Find your way back to Imladris. They will treat you well there."  
  
The powerful creature snorted and tossed its main, but turned away and galloped off the way it had come, this time without its rider. It was quickly followed by its five companions.  
  
Turning back to the burning campfire as the suns final rays dipped down below the horizon, the princes were plunged in to night. As one by one the princes sang laments to Middle Earth, the haunting songs drifted through the air of Eriador, reaching the ears of all the creatures who lived there.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
From the east, the sky began to shine as the sun probed its delicate fingers through the sky, lighting up the cold, frosty earth. A thin layer of harsh ice covered the hard earth, crunching under the feet of the Mirkwood elves as they made their way northwards, following the tracks of their princes. Being tugged along with them, Lindir miserably watched the sun rising, partly hidden behind misty clouds which had risen overnight.  
  
The elves slowed down from their run to a fast walk, giving them the chance to take a few mouthfuls of lembas. Silnan offered a piece to Lindir, who looked at it doubtfully before nibbling at the edges. The young elf kept looking at Silnan nervously. Silnan sighed and stopped, pulling Lindir to a stop with him. The captain looked his prisoner up and down, and then shook his head apologetically.  
  
"I suppose I ought to apologize, young one," he said. Lindir stopped nibbling at the lembas, and stared at his captor, wondering if he was hearing correctly. Silnan carried on talking.  
  
"I acted in anger and hatred. You were not in Mirkwood when it all happened, so you do not deserve to be dragged along behind us like this. I apologize for threatening to kill you. Now go. Run off quickly before I become angry again and change my mind."  
  
The proud warrior gave Lindir a small push, just to show he meant it. Looking nervously around at the Mirkwood elves for one last time, turned, and then fled as if he was being chased by wild wargs. The elves watched him disappear in to the distance, and then began to run northwards again.  
  
"Why did you do that?" asked Lachion, running alongside his companion.  
  
"He slowed us down," was all the answer he got.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Legolas watched the sun as it rose. In the distance to the north, he could see small, dark peaks rising out of the ground like the jaws of a wolf. They were coming closer to Angmar, with every step they took. His heart gave a flutter, like the wings of a dove attempting to fly for the first time. Before Angmar, however, there was a river they would have to find a way to cross. Perhaps, thought Legolas, they would not need to go all the way to Angmar. Perhaps they would only need to get to the river, and then drown.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In her room, Culkemen sulked. She was not locked up - the Imladris elves had seen no need. They doubted that she would be able to leave without being noticed. The room was open, similar to the one that Legolas had stayed in, and dead, Autumn leaves flew in across the floor from the glassless windows. Had the stay been under different circumstances, Culkemen would have liked the room. As it was, she hated every inch of it, and she longed for the dark, closeness of Mirkwood where her young daughter was.  
  
Striding across backwards and forwards across the room, she tried to think of how to escape, each idea becoming more and more desperate. She wrung her hands hopelessly, and then flopped down on to the bed with a sigh. She missed her daughter Sulin dreadfully, and could not stop thinking about the young elfling. She turned over and let the salty tears that had welled up in her eyes flow down her cheeks, muffled by the soft, white blankets. A sound behind her shocked her. She turned over on to her back and reached for her blades, before she realized that they had been taken away from her. Helpless, Culkemen sat up on the bed and looked at the two elves standing before her.  
  
Arwen and Aliela. Culkemen glared at them.  
  
Sweeping across the room, Arwen glared back. Aliela, however, hovered by the door, watching the corridor to make sure they were not being watched.  
  
"I will say this once, captain," began Arwen, "We are getting you out of Imladris. I do not want you here, and Aliela wants to see Legolas again. You are going to swap clothes with me, and then you will pretend to be me until you get safely over the boarders. Understand?"  
  
Standing up, Culkemen looked at Arwen with shock.  
  
"Why are you helping me?"  
  
Arwen nodded her head towards Aliela, who was still watching the corridor. She began to strip off her garments for Culkemen to wear.  
  
"Partly for Aliela," she said, "But partly because I miss Lindir. That is one of the conditions to letting you go, by the way. You must send Lindir strait back to us."  
  
Taking her own tunic and leggings off, Culkemen nodded soberly. She would miss Lindir, but not as much as she missed Sulin. Right now, the captain would do anything to get back to Mirkwood again, including pretending to be the daughter of two of the people she hated most in the whole of Arda. Slowly, she realized that this meant she would be giving up her uniform. Reluctantly, she paused as Arwen handed her the black sleeves with the red skirt and sleeves. She was not given the time to change her mind, however, as Arwen had pulled the leggings on to her own slim, pale skinned legs, and was now pulling the tunic over her head. Giving in, Culkemen pulled the hated dress over her head.  
  
Arwen picked up the hairbrush that had been lying on the stone desk, and pulled it through Culkemen's hair, styling it in a way identical to her own.  
  
"You are lucky you have dark hair and look similar to me," commented the beautiful elf, "Or we would have been at a loss as to how to get you away!"  
  
Very soon, Culkemen looked as Arwen-like as she could, and was walking smoothly through Imladris, her arm linked with Aliela - another of the elves she hated. As much as she wanted to pull her arm free and run as fast as she could away from Imladris, shouting curses as she went, it was not a thing Arwen would ever do, so she was forced to restrain herself.  
  
"Wait here," muttered Aliela at last, "I will fetch two horses."  
  
"why can I not come to the stables?" protested Culkemen.  
  
"Glorfindel spends much of his time there. You would be spotted." That seemed to be the end of the short argument, so Culkemen was forced to sit on a curved, stone bench pretending to be lost in thought until Aliela returned. The last words Arwen had begged to her kept running through her mind as Culkemen smelt the freshness of the breeze whistling past her.  
  
"Please, bring me back Lindir."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
With frustration, Legolas sat down and pulled the boot off his foot. Nuryävié and Astaler watched him with confused interest. The youngest of the six elves turned his boot upside down and shook it.  
  
"Legolas," said Nuryävié, "I hate to ask. . . but what on Arda are you doing?"  
  
The blonde looked up and grinned sheepishly.  
  
"I have a stone in my boot," he replied, sounding slightly embarrassed. He eventually shook the pebble out of his boot and stood up to put his boot back on, but then changed his mind.  
  
"The grass feels so lovely under foot!" he exclaimed, and then pulled the other boot off. Oroweth shook his head.  
  
"You are insane, Legolas!"  
  
The young prince smiled sweetly at his elder brother and gave a mock bow. His green tunic had a few grass stains on it, and his long, flowing cloak was covered with crumples and creases. Oroweth shook his fair head again, this time returning the grin. For the sake of it, he pulled his black boots off his feet, just to see if Legolas was right.  
  
"You see? Am I not right? It feels. . . free. Remember, we used to run around Mirkwood with bare feet and naneth despaired at us! The amount of times adar got angry at us for doing that. . ." Legolas realized who he was talking about, and his new found high spirits fell with his smile. Slowly, he tugged his boots back on to his feet. So did Oroweth.  
  
After a dragged out silence, Nilwethion suddenly announced, "I miss adar, and I miss Mirkwood."  
  
The others nodded with agreement.  
  
"Do you remember when we pushed you in to the enchanted stream last summer, Nuryävié?" asked Legolas, his features lighting up with a happiness from a resurfaced memory, long forgotten. Nuryävié glared.  
  
"I remember being told about it," he growled, "Do you remember when Astaler, Oroweth and I hid in the trees and pelted you with acorns for revenge?"  
  
It was now Astaler's to remember one of the many happy memories of Mirkwood.  
  
"Oh, and do you remember the telling off adar gave us for that? He said we behaved like silly little elflings, and thus deserved to be punished like them, and then sending us to face the corner?"  
  
The small group dissolved in laughter.  
  
"That was so funny! That was one of the few times I think I have ever seen Silnan laugh!"  
  
"We never lived it down though," Astaler thought out loud. He was remembering the mocking voices of his friends outside the family for weeks afterwards, even the months later when the three princes had thought, and hoped, that the incident had been forgotten about.  
  
Through all of this, as usual, Thellind had not spoken a single word, but his face had slowly lit up with a new hope. Gathering up every ounce of hope he had in him, the silent elf pointed westwards towards where the Misty Mountains lay in the distance, and beyond them, Mirkwood. His brothers looked at him.  
  
"Yes Thellind, that is where Mirkwood is. . ." Legolas told his brother slowly. Thellind rolled his eyes and shook his head.  
  
"You. . . you want to go back?"  
  
Slowly, nervously, Thellind nodded. Legolas looked apologetically in to Thellind's sorrowful eyes.  
  
"We all want to go back, Thellind, but we cannot. They hate us. Mirkwood hates us. Adar hates us. They hate us for what we did - for what Urshak and his orcs made us do. You do want to see naneth and Calensil and Hollinethir. . . and Neldoreth. . . do you not?"  
  
Again, Thellind nodded. He looked down at the grassy floor beneath his feet, and the small white flowers hidden among the grassy blades trying to survive in the winter-like frosts. The six elves carried on their journey north, travelling slowly, now in silence.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The warriors searching more and more desperately for their princes had not stopped their long trek northwards for hours. For a while now, there had been almost no sign of them. Even Silnan, previously so full of burning anger and hatred, had begun to give up hope that they would ever find the six princes.  
  
That was when they were hit by a stroke of amazing luck.  
  
Or rather, a stroke of amazing luck ran up to them. The unexpected luck came in the form of six large, proud horses galloping southwards over the hilly plains, keeping closely together. There was no sign of their riders, which dismayed Silnan and Lachion somewhat, but the fact that the princes horses had ridden found them in the middle of the wilderness was comforting. A light in the growing darkness of hope.  
  
As the horses came up to the elves of their homeland, the six powerful horses slowed down, and came to a halt. They whinnied and tossed their heads, their fabulous manes shaking like a flag in a gale.  
  
Slowly, Silnan approached one. He stroked it, and then mounted it. The horse gave no sign of wanting the elf off its back, so slowly, cautiously, Lachion and four more of the warriors under his command mounted the other steeds. The latter of the two captains turned to his warriors who were still on foot.  
  
"We must ride ahead now, before any arm comes to our princes," he informed them, "Ennyntaur, you are in command until we find each other again."  
  
Ennyntaur, an unusually tall warrior with bright golden locks flowing down his back, high cheek bones and blue eyes, nodded his head, his pale fist clutched tightly around his spear. The elves watched as their two captains and four companions galloped off over the hilly downs.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
From the sky, a small bird watched two brown horses galloping eastward, away from Imladris, home of Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian. The blackbird, looking down from its lofty view at the two fleeing elf maids with interest. It was not every day elves were trying to get away from the sanctuary. Eventually, as the two elves crossed the fords of Bruinen - to the north, not the east or west, the bird noted - it lost interest.  
  
Culkemen and Aliela had escaped, although there was nothing holding Aliela to Imladris in the first place, and they rode north as fast as they could to find either the warriors or the princes.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Before anybody even asks, no, Arwen and Lindir are not in love. They are just very good friends, and Arwen wants her friend back. Arwen is possibly a little OOC in the way she was acting again, but it is very difficult writing Arwen. I'm never sure if I should write her how she is in the books or how she is in the movies, so she comes out very strangely. Many apologies if you don't like the way she turned out.  
  
Look! The princes made an appearance again! Fun!  
  
Final note, it's my birthday on Thursday! Yay! Lots of fun and hyperness and. . . and I have a maths exam. Oh joy. Yes, that was very heavy sarcasm.  
  
PERSONAL REPLY THINGY  
  
LARVLE ~ I'm so glad you liked it, even without the princes.  
  
KISTUNE ~ Thanks very much. I update every Sunday.  
  
DRAGONFLY ~ Yup, Silnan definitely did go a little mad. I'm trying to redeem him at the moment. Is it working?  
  
ELVENROCKER ~ Bad luck is something that happens to get in between you and what you are trying to get. So, if the princes are looking for death, bad luck is something that prevents them from being able to die. The biggest tragedy of this story was when I killed dear, dear Imlammthien and Calensil and Hollinethir. It was. . . difficult, writing that bit, to say the least.  
  
MELLAITHWEN-ELVENMAIDEN ~ Lindir isn't really a little elfling. He's just a little immature when it comes to anything other than his music, and even then he sometimes thinks or acts younger than he really is. This makes other people treat him as though he is a lot younger. Two weeks and four days until Xmas now!  
  
MOONMIST ~ Don't worry about them, they're fine for the moment. Things will get quite angsty for them (and everyone involved, come to think of it) in the next chapter.  
  
LAINFAER ~ Wow, thanks a lot! I'm so glad to know I'm improving.  
  
SARA ~ Well if you think about it, there was no other way they could really get rid of the twins. You're right, Culkemen is really spunky to dare to call Elrond a liar to his face!  
  
ORODRUIN ~ Ah, but they had just killed all the enemies in the area, remember? So far as they knew, the Mirkwood warriors were still back in Mirkwood, so there was nothing that could have hurt the twins. Well, Elladan and Elrohir can act quite bratty, occasionally. Everyone does. I don't blame Silnan for being nasty. We all have our faults, and his is his anger.  
  
COOLIO02 ~ Culkemen, stuck? Nah, not her. She doesn't like being kept prisoner. Most of the twists and turns in this story were never planned, you know. They just. . . happened.  
  
ELROHIR LOVER ~ Thankyou very much. I update on Sundays.  
  
NESSA ~ A couple of days ago? How long does it take to read? It isn't really all that long, is it? Like I said to Elrohir Lover and Kistune, I update every Sunday. 


	35. The Call Of Home

CHAPTER 35 - The Call Of Home  
  
The youngest prince of Mirkwood looked Northwards at the sparkling, blue snake that wound its way in a slow curve from heading westward and then slowly changed direction, slipping southwards. North of the river, which is what the blue snake was, of course, were tall, dark mountains. The mountains separating them from Angmar, their destination.  
  
"It looks cold," he said, his blonde hair being tugged and pulled across his face by the frozen wind that blew down from the snow topped Misty Mountains to the east. Nilwethion nodded, trying to hold his own wild hair out of his face.  
  
"It will be," he replied, "The ground has frozen overnight. The river will be just as cold."  
  
"Frozen over? Like the forest river in Mirkwood was three years ago?"  
  
Nuryävié, standing on the other side of Legolas, shook his head.  
  
"No, just very, very cold. Almost frozen. Come on, we will have to find a way across. The sooner the better."  
  
The princes began to push their way forwards through the strong wind that blustered about them, but Legolas continued to stare at the long river ahead of them. He wrapped his warm cloak around himself.  
  
"Wait!" he called. His brothers turned around, leaning against the wind. "We could always . . . well, the river. It would be quicker than Angmar."  
  
Oroweth looked around again at the river, and was almost blown off his feet as particularly strong gust whipped past them. Elves were very light people, and the princes were no exception. The dark haired prince thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. He called to the others above the howling voice of the wind.  
  
"The sooner we can see naneth and the others, the sooner I will be happy!"  
  
Again, the princes began to walk towards the river, their progress slow due to the battling wind. The fight the wind was putting up against the six elves was almost as though the very world itself was trying to stop the princes from reaching the rapid flowing river.  
  
Their feet almost stumbled over the ice cold earth, their travel stained cloaks wrapped tightly around them, hoods drawn over their heads but continually thrown back by the raging winds. Slowly but surely, the princes picked up their speed as they adjusted to the cold, angry wind, and river drew ever closer and clearer for the eye to see. Across the open land, where only the Rangers ever went, the princes now struggled to find their way. As the sun climbed higher in to the sky, denied the right to warm up the world by the harsh winds and the other cold elements, the six princes came to the river, unaware that they were being followed.  
  
Just as the princes took their first steps in to the freezing cold, flowing water that was the river, six horses - their own horses, recently set free - galloped up as if the whips of the orcs were driving them along. On the backs of the six horses were six elves. Captain Silnan, captain Lachion and four others. The last people the princes wanted to see.  
  
With a cry of fear, Oroweth, Nuryävié, Nilwethion and Legolas began to wade further in to the clear water, terrified that they had been followed by the warriors for unfriendly reasons. They still firmly believed that their people hated them, blaming them for the deaths of the queen and the princesses. The icy kiss of the water lapped around their legs, drawing them onwards, as if eager to freeze their hearts and keep them locked like treasure in a chest at the ever-changing bottom of the river bed until the end of time.  
  
In the shallows of the river, however, Thellind stood frozen. Astaler, panicking, grabbed hold of his pale, cold arm and tried to drag him away. The silent prince would not move, making Astaler more and more frantic to get away, but instead he stood like a stone statue, staring with disbelief at the fast approaching warriors on the backs of the six horses.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The two elven women galloped over the frozen turf as fast as their horses could go. The landscape passed swiftly by - the small woods that were the Trollshaws, the low hills, ancient trees that had almost lost all of their leaves. Further away, in the distance to the east, the snow topped Misty Mountains, their summits hidden in swirling clouds of far off hail stones, slowly went by, watching the two riders like sentries.  
  
They did not know how long they had spent, galloping through torrents of flustered wind, their eyes searching endlessly for a sign of any elven life that had recently passed that way; the prideful Mirkwood warriors, the lost princes or, though they both supposed that he was still being dragged along behind the warriors, Lindir.  
  
A mournful tune, buffeted and carried up to the skies by the wild winds, reached their ears. Driven by a wordless decision, the two elves stopped and dismounted their horses, looking around for whomever it was playing the flute so beautifully.  
  
"Lindir!" gasped Aliela. Her voice was lost to Culkemen, snatched away by the elements. The captain did not need telling, however, because at that moment she too saw the small, huddled form playing the flute sitting in a lone tree. His cloak was wrapped around him, and his blonde hair was only just peeking out from underneath the secretive folds of the hood, but both of them could tell the forlorn minstrel by the skilful tunes played on the little black flute in his hands.  
  
"Lindir!" called Culkemen. Her voice was louder than Aliela's, and it cut through the wind like an elvish dagger cuts through the flesh of an orc. The sweet, mournful tune faltered, and Lindir looked up with surprise. From the shadows created by his hood, Lindir's face lit up like a candle in the dark. He swung himself down and ran towards the two other elves, his cloak flying out behind him.  
  
"I was waiting for the wind to die down before going back to Imladris!" he yelled above the wind. Culkemen and Aliela could only just hear his words above the howls and whispers of the wind.  
  
"How did you escape?" cried Culkemen.  
  
"Captain Silnan let me free!" the reply came, above the voice of the wind  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Silnan - free!"  
  
Culkemen nodded to show that she had understood him. She then pointed behind her with a pale, slender finger that was almost as white as the frost that still covered the ground, back the way they had come. The way in which Imladris lay.  
  
"Aliela will take you back to Imladris!" she called. Again, Lindir smiled. The thought of the Hall of Fire was very welcoming to him; the warm flicker of the friendly flames and the peaceful feeling that always hung in the air there. Besides, he would be able to see the twins and know that they were well.  
  
"Pardon?" Aliela herself, having not been consulted on the matter, was surprised, to say the least. Her cheeks, reddened by the cold wind, flushed even more with anger at the Mirkwood elf that she had so recently helped to escape.  
  
"Go with Lindir! Go back home where you belong!"  
  
Culkemen watched with something close to satisfaction as Aliela's frost paled lips tightened and, by her sides, her glove covered hands clenched in to fists. The captain was expecting an angry argument, but it never came. Instead, all she got was a foul look that would make an orc seem nice and friendly. The elf maiden turned on her heal and whistled to her earth-brown horse, which obediently trotted up. She mounted the creature, and beckoned for Lindir to do the same. When he was sitting comfortably behind her, Aliela turned the horse around and galloped away southwards, back to Imladris. She blinked back a tear forming in her eye like rain in a cloud, hoping Culkemen had not seen it.  
  
Culkemen stood, leaning in to the wind slightly, watching the horse bearing the two elves from Imladris away back home. As soon as they were out of sight, she mounted her own horse and rode off north again, continuing the search to be reunited with her people.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Thellind, come on!" cried Astaler, trying to tug his brother deeper in to the river as it curled around their legs, like fingers trying to draw them further in. A tear of fear and desperation escaped from the corner of his eye, trickling down his pale face. Thellind still would not move, staring at the riders who had now dismounted and were running towards them.  
  
The pair were grabbed by two pairs of hands and, although Astaler tried putting up a half hearted fight, but he gave up and allowed himself to be pulled out of the river. He looked in to the eyes of a warrior he did not know. He gulped, desperate to escape the grasp of the unknown elf and find his way to the Halls of Mandos, where queen Imlammthien, Calensil, Hollinethir and Neldoreth were resting and waiting. The prince tried to pull away from the warrior, but diamond like tears welled up in his eyes, and he it drained him of the little will power he had left to blink them back.  
  
Unlike Astaler, Thellind had thrown his arms around his rescuer, and was not showing any sign of letting go any time soon. After believing for so long that the elves living in Mirkwood hated him, the fact that they had been followed proved to him that he had been wrong. The warrior, trapped in the bear-hug, was more than slightly confused at his reception, and glanced at his friend for help.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It had not taken long to ride over the blustery plains and find the smaller group of warriors, now lead by Ennyntaur, who were making their way northwards, contrary to the wind which flew down from the mountains and was trying to push them eastwards. They looked up as they heard the approaching hooves, and then glared and drew their weapons when Culkemen drew in to sight.  
  
At first, the captain wondered at the reception, and then she realized that she was dressed in Arwen's clothes and riding her horse. From the distance, and with her dark hair and dark cloak billowing about so wildly, the must have mistaken her for Arwen. Culkemen allowed herself a small, smug smile as she slowed the powerful horse to a stop and dismounted it. She gave it a small nudge in the direction of Imladris, showing that it could go home. The horse needed no second orders and galloped off in the direction of its home.  
  
As Ennyntaur looked closer at the elf, he gasped, bit his lip, and sheathed his weapon.  
  
"I apologize, captain. I thought you were. . ." he trailed off  
  
"Arwen?" Culkemen continued to smile as she saw the shock on the faces of the elves staring at her.  
  
"I have not actually seen Arwen," Ennyntaur replied thoughtfully, raising his voice so that it could be heard above the driven gusts, "But I did not realize who you were."  
  
"Where is Silnan and Lachion?" she asked, noticing the absence of two such strong personalities. She had expected to find them there, and was very surprised that they were not.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Legolas was now up to his waist in freezing cold water, and although elves are usually very resistant to the cold, he was shivering. Behind him, four of the warriors who had arrived on horseback were wading in to the river after him and his brothers.  
  
The water crept in to his boots, making them heavy and cumbersome. It soaked his leggings and the bottom of his tunic and his cloak, as though the river was teasingly trying to pull him down in to its depths.  
  
"Your majesties!" he heard Silnan call from behind him. The voice of the usually strong and hot-headed captain came over as being almost as desperate as Legolas felt. The blonde prince, his skin white and his limbs shaking from the icy cold temperatures, ignored the captain and carried on wading forwards. He did not realise that Thellind and Astaler were now back on the grassy banks, or that Lachion had caught hold of Oroweth and was pulling him away from the river.  
  
"Your majesties, wait!" the call came again, more despairing than before.  
  
This time, Legolas paused, and looked back over his shoulder with wide, blue eyes, filled with terror. He was now chest deep in the swiftly running river, and in danger of being swept of his feet by the force of the water, bent on captivating him. Silnan was up to his waist, and not very far behind.  
  
"What are you doing?" he called, his voice projecting clearly over the raging torrents of the water joined with the wailing gusts of wind. Nilwethion was the one who replied, his voice sounded drained and was almost snatched away, out of hearing range.  
  
"You hate us."  
  
Silnan shook his head slowly, confused.  
  
"Why do you think that?" he yelled. Then, his face clenched as thoughts began to formulate in his untrusting mind. "It was that Lord of Imladris and his wife! They told you that to make you leave, did they not? Your adar loves you! He is sick with grief at loosing you, as are your people! Come back to Mirkwood!"  
  
In one fell swoop, all hopes of seeing their waiting family in the Halls of Mandos were crushed, like a berry under a boulder. A tear began to form in the corner of Legolas' eye. For months, he had believed that he was one of the most unwanted, wretched creatures in Arda. Now. . . it was almost as though a great weight had been lifted from his chest. A small smile touched his frozen lips, and he, along with his brothers, waded backwards towards the shore.  
  
"Yes," he whispered, as the disappointed river rushed on by, angry that it had lost its beautiful prize, "We will come home."  
  
The End.  
  
Epilogue: The princes, along with the six warriors, rejoined Culkemen, Ennyntaur and the other warriors and made their way homewards. The crossed the Misty Mountains right in the middle of winter, and swore blind never, ever to do it again. They returned home to Mirkwood in the late spring to the joy of the elves, and to much jubilation. King Thranduil recovered quickly after his depression at loosing, as he though, all his family, and became well enough to rule his people in a very short space of time.  
  
Lindir went back to playing his music, though he tended to favour the Mirkwood flute instead of his harp. Elladan and Elrohir stopped picking on him, although they did still occasionally play the odd trick on him. Aliela found Lin the teddy bear and, after debating giving it back to the princes, she decided to keep him until the next time one of the princes visited, which was many years later. Somehow, unlike the princes, she managed to keep Lin as he was since the day she found him. When Elrond, Celebrian, Glorfindel and Erestor found out that Arwen had helped Culkemen to escape, they were all very, very angry with both her and Aliela. When Aliela and Lindir rode back in to Imladris not very long afterwards though, they were too relived to see Lindir back alive and well to be angry for any longer.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Yes, this epic tale, Princes of Mirkwood, is finished! Oh dear Eru, it's a miracle! I've actually finished it! I've already got my next fic planned, and the first chapter will either be up this Sunday or next Sunday. It's weird to think I've actually finished this thing! Especially since I've been working on it for almost 9 months.  
  
Okay, so a HUGE thank you to everyone who has reviewed this piece, especially all of you who have been loyal reviewers, coming back every week. Also thankyou to any lurkers. Cookies for y'all!  
  
Anything else to say? Um. . . not that I can think of. . . I'll probably think of something I needed to say after I've uploaded this chapter. Ah well.  
  
LAST REVIEW REPLY THINGY OF POM!  
  
LARVLE ~ don't worry, I didn't do anything too mean to them. I love them all too much to hurt them that much. Well. . . that's possibly why I hurt them in the first place. . . but that just isn't the point. The maths exam actually turned out alright. It was my naneth forgetting to pick me up from school that should be illegal! On my birthday and all!  
  
DRAGONFLY ~ I would agree with you and say that maths is my worst subject as well, but after that exam I'll have to say that my worst is actually Physics. It'll take a heck of a lot for them to get over their hatred of the Noldorian elves, but I'll be sorting that out in another story. Mind you, I already have my net two fics planned and that subject doesn't fit in anywhere there, but I'll get around to it eventually.  
  
ELROHIR LOVER ~ thank you very much!  
  
LAINFAER ~ yes, they made it just in time. The grand finale, as it were.  
  
MELLAITHWEN - ELVENMAIDEN ~ hey lookie! They heard you and paid attention to you! That's more than they do for me! ;p It was nice of Arwen and Aliela in a way, but the only reason they really helped Culkemen escape was because Arwen wanted Lindir back and because Aliela wanted to see Legolas again.  
  
ELVENROCKER ~ aw, don't stress about the exams! Sure, they're annoying and they get in the way, but that doesn't mean you should stress about them. The more you stress the worse you do. Well, that's how it works for me.  
  
NESSA ~ just as you add the link to your favourites, I finish it! Typical. Why didn't you just get a user name and add it to the favourites list on that though? It would save a heck of a lot of time in finding links. Ah, free food. Wonderful stuff!  
  
ORODRUIN ~ well. . . the Mirkwood company catch up with the princes AS they are doing something stupid. It's a good thing the horses turned up when they did, or else the princes would have been lying dead at the bottom of the river bank by the time the Mirkwood warriors caught up with them. They did take Thellind home, after all! I agree that it would have made a good story, but I'm too attached to Thellind now to kill him off. If I did I would probably end up crying my eyes out in the middle of writing the chapter! Maybe I'll save it for another elf and another day.  
  
MOONMIST ~ Yay! Legolas-plushie! Fun! Now it can go with all the plushies I have of my original characters! Hmm. . . want a Thellind plushie? 


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